Ultimate Spider-Woman - Loss and Grief
by Pha5e
Summary: The origin of ultimate Spider-Woman from her perspective.


Forward.

Jessica Drew AKA Spider Woman is a clone of Peter Parker from Earth 1610, the Ultimate Universe.

Issue 1 Denial

I watched the police clean up the crime scene in the street below. This had turned into another cold night on a rooftop where I mulled over the mess my life had become. I sighed in frustration.

Girls. It always came back to them. MJ- Mary Jane Watson, the love of my life, my only confidant and best friend didn't listen to me and couldn't keep herself out of harms way. We'd broken up cause she didn't have powers and couldn't do what I could do. I'd had to end us before my secret life ended her. It was the responsible thing to do. That's me. Mr Responsible.

That brought me to Black Cat AKA Felicia Hardy AKA smoking hot babe in revealing cat suit that made all my spider senses tingle. I should have known better than to side with Black Cat. Of course she'd betray me. It was in her nature. Cats are fickle creatures after all. She'd joined Hammerhead and Electra without a seconds thought about right or wrong, solely because they were competitors of the Kingpin. Shang Chi, Iron Fist and Moon Knight… They could have been killed. Hell, Moon Knight was injured in the mayhem. Then she switched sides again. (Ultimate Spider Man #85)

It turned out alright but that didn't make me any less angry. My fist clenched. I should web her up and leave her for the cops. Why don't I!? Because I have a crush? This is stupid. But here we are.

Angry and disappointed I turned about to leave. "Hey!" Felicia said as she easily somersaulted and alighted catlike in front of me, blocking my way.

"Jeez!" I said, thanking god my mask lenses prevented Felicia from seeing me stare at her revealing costume. It's hard to look anywhere else. Did I mention I had a crush?

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" She asked demurely.

"Well, yeah," I admitted awkwardly, averting my eyes, blood rushing to my head, the mask hiding my blush. God. I felt every one of my fifteen years at the moment. Um... Pi, to ten decimal places. Er, 3.14… dammit spandex can't hide what I'm thinking about.

Cat smiled winningly. "Well, see, I didn't know."

"Yes, you did," I said, amused and nervous. Why did this feel like a game of cat and mouse. Probably cause it was.

Black Cat moved distractingly forwards. "You still mad at me?"

I tried to remember why I should be mad at her. It was hard. "Yes." I backed into a chimney as I tried to maintain my personal space. "Oof."

"Where are you going now?" She asked with keen interest.

"Uh... home." I said. To bed. That was the wrong thing to think about.

"Can I come with you?" She suggested, pressing into me, bedroom eyes way too enticing. She was warm and very soft, just like I'd imagined. Bad imagination. Down boy.

I felt my mouth go dry. "Uh..."

"Can I?" She moved against me slowly and it grew harder to think.

"No." I squeaked.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She pressed.

Oh my god... I floundered. "Little bit." I can't move. Like a deer in headlights.

"Let's do it." Felicia decided.

I frowned hesitantly, mind racing as I tried to figure out where this was leading. "What?"

"Right here right now. Kiss me." She whispered huskily.

I tried to respond but words failed me. Oh my God...

"I think about this all the time... what's under this mask. Who this mystery man in my life really is? I want to see you. I want to kiss you. I'm ready." Her breath was warm on my mask. Her lips loomed, begging to be kissed.

Oh my god. I was trapped. Those headlight were on high beam and I was trapped in them.

"Right now. I want to unwrap my mystery present." Her dangerously clawed gloves were gently at my throat, at the join between my mask and suit, pushing the mask up, exposing my neck.

Stop her. She's - she's unmasking you. Stop it. Well... she's oh my God. My feet are missing.

"I'm going to do it, Spider-Man... I'm going to take off this mask and I'm going to kiss you." She purred.

This is - no! This is - I felt air first on my chin, then progressively on my lips, my nose and my brow as she slid my mask up. Revealing me completely. Unmasked. I looked up at her and smiled. I closed my eyes, puckered up and moved forward for the promised kiss.

I kissed open air. "I thought you were you're just a little... how how old are you?" She asked in a thin, shocked voice. "Bluuaaggh!!"

I opened my eyes in shock, something warm and wet hitting my belly and dripping down. I stared down. She'd thrown up on me. She looked at me, her surprise clear, as though she'd been doused in icy water.

"Sorry... fur ball." She muttered as she turned and fled. I watched her go feeling decidedly stupid and dejected. This was just so frustrating and confusing. So... typical. The old Parker luck. What had I been thinking.

My vision swam as the rooftop faded.

"She's coming out of it..." a voice noted.

I shook off the encounter with Felicia. Was that a dream? No. It was a recent memory. It happened just moments ago. I was certain… the confusion… sexual excitement… embarrassment… and that overwhelming tension… Yeah, that was moments ago… but no vomit now. Still, that was a total crash and burn. How typical. What a fool I am! Thinking with little spidey. Thank God no one saw it. I'd never live it down. But... why am I waking up? How the hell did I get here? I looked up at the guy, vision swimming. She's coming out of it? Yeah. Me too. I thought absently. Something is very wrong. I feel weak. Frail. Not my self. Who are these people and what are they doing to me? Where the heck is my costume? My face is still exposed. I just took my mask off I know but now I'm in bed. I lay prone, handcuffed securely to a gurney with I.V. tubes running into veins, other things monitoring vitals and a catheter pressing uncomfortably below the waist. That felt disturbing. Beside the bed sat a machine that went PING.

My eyes searched then locked on … something. I stared uncomprehendingly at the contours outlined by the bed sheets. I'd just been admiring Felicia's generously filled costume. Those didn't looked nearly as ample but from my perspective they were mountains. Holy crap! Fear kicke in, the disorientation of waking retreating. Unmasking tends to do that. As does an out of body experience like this one.

Black Cat… We'd been together moments ago, I'm completely certain. How did I get here in this body that was clearly not mine?

I searched about for answers. Rows of bright fluorescent lighting stabbed into my eyes. The room was of solid reinforced construction. An institutional building. Beyond the grinning man stood shadowy figures dressed in surgical hazmat suits. Standard issue rent a goons. Most had large machine guns aimed at their patient. Their prisoner. Me. Damnit. The old Parker luck never fails me. I don't get it.

"Hi. My name is Ben Reilly. If that name sounds vaguely familiar it's because I was Doctor Curt Connors' assistant a few months ago." He explained.

I followed his words despite all the guns. Curt recently played god with my blood sample and created that crazy red symbiote that killed Gwen. This guy helped do that? Great. A mad scientist's assistant. He's a bloody Renfield... What could possibly go wrong? I went to respond with an inane quip but a weird high pitched mewling noise came out instead. It sounded absurdly childish. My larynx throbbed with dull pain.

"Don't worry about trying to talk. You can't yet. You were brought into this world just a week ago. Your body hasn't fully adjusted to its— how can I explain it? Your body is still forming. You've been heavily sedated so as to not hurt yourself."

A week?! Still forming...? He's lying. Has to be. But they definitely have me sedated. Bastard. It's not for my good. You're worried about me hurting you. But… What are you doing to me? How...

"I know in your mind, you're a little freaked out and confused right now... but don't worry about that either." Renfield advised. "Okay, in your head you remember yourself as Peter Parker, Spider Man... But you're not him. In fact you're not even a him. You're a her. A biological replica of him, created by me and my team. You're in an R and D facility for the Central Intelligence Agency."

I was suddenly preoccupied with the effort of wringing Renfield's lousy neck. So weak! Drugged. That's what he said. Must also be hallucinating. Temporal, auditory and visual. Yeah that's it. The guys with guns tightened their grips sending my spider sense tingling. Well that's … not good. My spider sense tells me they're a real threat. So I am their prisoner. That much is real. Weak and panting with effort my hands dropped feebly to the sheets. My hands look and feel small. Feminine. Matching my perception of my chest. What have they drugged me with?

"You're safe and okay." Ben reassured the figure in the bed.

I shook my head. You know Renfield you need to work on your bedside manner 'cause everything you just said left me feel decidedly unsafe and unokay. I snorted in disgust, hands moving up to test the curves I saw on my chest, then going rigid at what they found. Oh no. Oh no! No, no, no, no! He can't be telling the truth. They can't have given me girl parts!? This is just some kind of weird psychedelic brainwashing experiment. My mind raced. It looks and feels real but it ain't.

"You're phase five of the project actually. The goal was to process a clone of Peter Parker. Why him? Because well, because of his spider powers. And in your case we did a little chromosomal manipulation and you were born a girl. And you are a rousing success. You're the best one so far. We're really this is very, very exciting."

A little chromosomal what? Sheesh! I've dealt with crazy before but this is like, meta crazy. This fruit loop thinks I'll believe I'm a clone? A female clone!!? No. Black Cat must have slipped me a Mickey. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her. But when did she get goons? No. I must have been captured by someone with mind powers. Or maybe this was hypnotism. A pink brain slug?

What was that line? I doubt my senses because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! I snorted.

"Now, the good news, as confusing as it is to have the memories and sense memories of a boy when you are a girl and the memories of someone you're not... don't worry. We have a psych team coming in very soon and you'll be stripped of all those memories and we'll have all new ones implanted in you in no time. In fact, by then you won't even remember having this conversation, the fact that you're a clone or any of this."

That's a horrible thought. Good thing this is all in my head or I'd be getting worried. I considered. Cause if this is real then my life just jumped the shark. Heck if this is real it isn't even my life. I shuddered. If, just for a moment we assume this is real I need to get my Xeroxed mind around it. Phase five... so... Five clones of me? No. Not of me. Of him. Peter Parker. No that is me… can't buy into this mixed up head game. But supposing it's real. That made six. Hah! One more and we'd have a soccer team... Yeah this has to be some kind of bad head trip... there's no other explanation. God I'm exhausted.

"But we need to run some psych evaluation tests on you before we go to the next step, and that includes telling you this and observing how you react to it. And your next life, if you choose to accept it, is going to be just as exciting as being Spider Man You'll be a special agent for the Central Intelligence Agency. Cool huh?" He asked.

Cool? Yeah until I come down from whatever horse sized pills I'm tripping on I'm going to be wrecked… I yawned, blinking asleep for a moment.

"Let's see what they have for you... you'll be special agent Jessica Drew. Pretty name. You'll be an agent of the CIA. Codename: Spider Woman. Ugh. Not very original. I'll try to have them change it for you," Renfield offered.

I sighed nervously. If this is a hallucination then it's really complicated. My subconscious has this all figured out... now did I ever want to be a girl? Uh uh. No. Must be mind control. Jean? Jean Grey? This isn't funny… so… tired.

"So how did this all happen? Well if you remember... when you, and by you I mean Peter Parker, were friends with Curt Connors, he stole a sample of your blood... and, you'll remember, he accidentally incubated a clone prototype that became that horrible monster that wreaked such carnage on my college campus. And killed your friend Gwen Stacy. Well I helped him. Clearly that was not the plan. We didn't want to hurt anyone. We wanted to helpu people. But what happened. And then..." He kept talking but I didn't hear cause I'm pretty sure I fell asleep.

Or woke up. I found myself male again, in my spidey costume, web swinging back home. But it was a strange sensation. A bit like I'm not exactly in control, yet I am. I remember Renfield's little speech like it just happened. I'm male again and swinging back from my failed encounter with Felicia. That's good. So what was that thing with Renfield? As I'm trying to figure that out I found a water tap on a roof and did my best to clean the mess on my suit. The mess from when Black Cat barfed all over me. I can't believe she threw up on me. Jeez. I'm not that unattractive am I? I suppose I could be a bit young for her though. That I conceded. But MJ and I just broke up and Black Cat could look after herself. That was probably the only thing she had going for her. Oh and she was drop dead gorgeous. In retrospect though unmasking was a bad idea. Hormones over ruled my good sense. Black Cat isn't a good person. Not someone I need in my life. Not a girl I could take home to meet Aunt May.

Fur ball? Damn!

I finished cleaning and swung away. Soon I was at my bag webbed to the base strut of a rooftop water tower. I took my bag and swung back to the lane near my home in Queens. Quickly I removed my mask and put my normal street clothes back on over my suit. Everything on my body was exactly where it should be. Everything was right. I went to confirm with my hands but I couldn't. Huh. Weird. It is like I'm a passenger?

Maybe I was drugged. Or maybe it was some kind of weird dissociative identity disorder thing? God that's a horrible thought, all this running around in a mask is causing me to have split personality disorder. No. It's something else… but what?

Hang on. Here come those embarrassing memories of Black Cat. A sense of regret and chagrin associated with the failed kiss. "Ow." I muttered with a hang dog expression as I opened the front door, only to be confronted by Aunt May. "Hi Aunt M "

"Did you skip school again today?" May accused. The silence hung thickly as the tension grew. I felt guilty as heck. "I won't live in a house of lies. If I have to speak to you again about this I'm kicking you out. Can I be any more clear?"

I slunk upstairs to my bedroom, stripped off my clothes and vomit stained suit, stuffed them in the hamper and climbed into bed. I curled up under my covers.

Worry and angst about women and superheroing plagued me. Would Felicia figure out who I really was? Would she use that knowledge to get at the Kingpin? She had made noises about going straight but she was fickle as a cat. What had gone wrong…? Obviously it was the age difference. Would she even speak to me again? How would MJ feel if she found out? Betrayed. No we'D broken up. Still I felt guilty. Like I'd cheated. And then there was Aunt May. She didn't deserve this stress but I had been doing the right thing stopping Hammerhead even though Fisk benefited.

Yeah this is normal. So what was that weird delusion about being a woman? I observed detachedly. And why this weird sensation of being a passenger in my own body? I tried to click my fingers. Nothing.

I buried my face in my pillow, tossing and turning as I wrestled with my thoughts. My mistakes. It took a while for me to nod off.

And then I was back with Black Cat on the roof top. Again. Oh God. Is this delusion ever going to end? I feel like I'm stuck in that film Groundhog Day. But I still felt more like a passenger than a participant. Is my brain stuck on repeat? Huh. Come to think of it this all looks a little different. No smells. Sounds odd too.

The moon was full and much larger and bright. The stars glimmered oddly and there were no familiar constellations. Just random pinpricks in the black curtain of night. The cityscape was more an impression. Like the backdrop of a play. I intuited it more than saw it. The colours were dark but oddly vivid. Like something Van Gogh might paint. Spidey Night…

I stared at her costume again. It seemed more revealing. More erotic. My gaze focused. Well those are the same. But my interest seemed a little … too much. Like the colours it was vivid and overly intense. I have a bad feeling about this.

Hey. Stop. We both know how this ends... it's a train wreck pal. Stop. Abort! I tried to tell myself. But this vignette had its own script apparently.

Again I went to kiss her but this time she was in my arms, kissing me back passionately, her full curves pressing against my body. Those curves. Wow. Then I was unmasked and somehow we had our skin tight costumes off. Not sure how that happened… Hot skin against skin. Then... she wanted it. I wasn't scared or uncertain or anything. I wanted it too. This time we got it.

Oh God! Do. I. Get. A. Say. In. This?

I awoke on the gurney, for a moment half on that weird sordid rooftop, half in the complex. Then the sense of being on that surreal roof faded. The rows of fluorescent night lights were on. The place was quiet and still. I was sweating and breathing heavily with excitement. I was really excited. And it felt really, really different. It's hard to explain. And it was confusing as hell. Worst of all there was something between my legs, something sticky. Oh God! I berated myself as I panted with what I can only describe as arousal. My hands were between my legs. But there was nothing else there. Okay Pete. Back to the delusion of being a female prisoner… it's gotta be. So aroused though. Like a wet dream… the only pro was that I didn't feel like a passenger now. My thoughts are all mine despite my excitement. This is not some weirdly surreal voyeuristic erotic vision.

That was… just wow… intense!

"Jessica? Are you okay? Your vitals just spiked." Ben called over an intercom as he worked the security door to open it. "Must have been something from the Prime."

"Mfwine..." I responded with some difficulty, still weak and sweating from the Uber extreme experience. My mumbling voice sounded high, breathy, feminine. What just happened?! Urgently I tried to remove my hands but they were stuck fast. Webbed to be precise. That was the sticky sensation. God. I feel like I'm hopped on drugs. Viagra…? Pulse racing… holy crap.

And… Wait! I'm not wearing my web shooters. Am I? How? I wriggled my fingers. Things feel all wrong down there. But clearly I've just webbed my hands to myself without web shooters. Huh. That explains why I can't feel things properly. Webbing. And my fingers tingle slightly. Did the webbing just come from my fingers? Organic webs? Not possible. Still, better it came from my finger tips than my… abdomen... cause… if it's not there…

"Are you okay Jessica?" Ben asked, pausing to check the patients vitals. I seemed back to normal.

"Mwuh Huh." I responded in the positive. Don't come in! Oh man. Don't come in. This is embarrassing enough without you looking. This webbing better dissolve soon because I'm not strong enough to break free. I just lay there exhausted as I calmed down. Wow.

"Alright then." Ben replied, going back to his monitors. "I should tell you we intend to have you awake when Peter is asleep. There is a good reason for unsynching your respective sleeping patterns. If we don't then… well the dreams are much too intense as you now know. And the side affects are… bad," he trailed off.

I flushed in embarrassment and relief. Yeah I don't want more of these acid dreams. I shuddered. Jeez. Puberty is difficult enough. But hyper immersive drug flipped dreams? That was a sensory and emotive overload. Like I was there with everything dialled up to the max. Hell it still feels a bit like I'm there now. But whatever they're doing to me makes it feel like I'm in the wrong body right now. Ew! This is too much! God damned puberty blues! I don't need this. As if life wasn't complicated enough.

"We're getting it under control for you. The first clone has some significant mental issues because we didn't realise soon enough. Some… unhealthy denial issues. Couldn't accept hisnew reality.". Ben explained. "We tried to fix it but that attempt on the second clone led to progeria. We think we can solve the problem with a mind wipe. You know what they say. You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, right? As Peter is very active your waking hours aren't overly constrained. We just monitor him and keep you clones awake when he sleeps. Better that than the alternative. Stay awake. I'll tell you when you can go to sleep."

Monitor? What? I felt overwhelmed and helpless but also violated. They knew when I slept. Peter slept? No. I wasPeter.. This guy was an utter ass hat but I don't want any more of those dreams. Damnit, that dream was completely overwhelming. What if I had a nightmare? I blinked tears back and stared at the cameras monitoring the room. I should be thankful for the sheets at least. Can't show what I'm feeling. I lay there, struggling to keep my eyes open, to not fall asleep, hands webbed the whole time. I struggled but ended up nodding off.

Again I was looking at the impressionistic cityscape, reflected in the river. The Queensboro Bridge? Oh hell no! Not this dream. I know this dream! It's cast always gets bigger! I crouched atop the bridge. Dreading what was about to happen. The bridge Seemed taller. Unbelievably tall. I looked about in dread.

There he was. The Green Goblin, circling menacingly about me in the air like some predatory shark. Flaming eyes flickering crazy colours, mouth all sharp teeth, horns immeasurably long and sharp. Palpable burning hate, insanity and evil. I knew terror. Raw, instinctive, primal, unreasoning fear. This was the dream made real. Too real. I felt so small compared to his huge sickly green bulk. Flames danced about his balled fists.

The monster held Mary Jane on his shoulder as she struggled, laughing like a madman. "No!" I cried as he dropped her. I leaped. Falling as she fell. Just out of reach. I tried to use my webbing. My shooters were empty. It was just like a bad dream but too real. Everything in slow motion. Dive. Faster. Faster. Not fast enough. Too slow to catch her. I almost had her. But she was just out of reach. "No. No. No. it's my fault…"

"Peter!!! You promised you'd keep me safe. You lied." There was horror and fear in her eyes. But also hatred.

"MJ! No." She was going to die and it was all because of me. Oh god.

She hit the water like it was concrete. There was a sickening crunch of bone. I grabbed her lifeless body. Pulled her close. Cold. Lifeless. Gone. She'd died hating me. I felt crushed by loss and regret. Guilt.

"No! I'm sorry! This is all my fault…" I hugged her, buried my face in her mass of floating red hair. I wanted forgiveness but didn't deserve it. Then something touched my leg. I looked up. Floating there beside me was the desiccated corpse of Gwen Stacy. It pointed a bony finger at me. "Gwen?" I asked. How can I talk underwater?

"Peter… this is your fault." Lifeless eyes stared at me accusingly. "Your lies killed me!"

The truth of her words cut into me. God. I'm drowning in the weight of this emotion. This guilt. My lies.

Beyond her floated Uncle Ben. Shot. Dead. Because of me.. "You failed me Pete. It's your fault. Your life is an empty lie!"

I nodded. But Uncle Ben. I'm trying to live up to your expectations. Trying to make it right. I'm sorry. I…

"You killed her. Everything you touch dies. You're an imposter. You're no hero." Gwen's dad rasped, his bomb mangled visage a horror to behold. The water was red with blood. "Liar!"

That wasn't me. I didn't.. I… oh god. It's too much. Help me! Someone! Please. Help.

"Get out!" Aunt May said in hurt rage, looking down upon me from the bridge above, the water distorting her, making her bigger. Her disappointment and grief were huge and palpable. "Go live in your house of lies. Get out!" Behind her the flaming insanity circled, inexorably approaching in a mad spiral of doom. She was going to die too. Because of me.

Aunt May. Please. I only ever wanted to protect you.

With a wrenching sob I awoke. I lay there. Unable to think. Tears in my eyes. Oh God. Too intense! I… why…

"Told you. Don't nod off." Ben said.

I nodded and let the guilt coil about in my mind. It was because of my lies. The dream. That hadn't been my dream. I understood now. I couldn't afford to lie to myself.. No. More. Lies. I thought to myself. I lay there. I have too many regrets. I've lied too and hurt too many people. God. This is real. The intensity of that dream… god. I shuddered. I have to face the truth. No more lies then. Not to myself. I'm not Peter Parker… not the original at least. Who am I? I lay there, reviewing things over and over. Hands still webbed. There was no escaping the truth. God. I'm spinning around in circles. You bastards! Who am I? Frustrated anger replaced denial.

"Okay. Peter is up. You can go to sleep Jessica ." Ben finally said.

Like Hell I'm Jessica. I'm… Peter? Aargh! In my exhausted state it didn't take long for me to nod off. Mercifully there were no more dreams.

Issue 2: Anger

I awoke to stare down at the female contours displayed beneath my bed sheets. Jeez. The curves were still clearly girlish. Chest and hips noticeably so, limbs all around slimmer. Nothing changed there. I also had long soft hair. Of course.

By touch I found my facial features drastically rearranged and, when I examined my reflection in the one way mirror, I found my face and body was... off. That wasn't me. Damn them. I was a guy! At this moment my appreciation of the female form was at an all time low. Just... well I didn't want this. I was angry. And being so weak made me feel vulnerable. Not a fan.

Why had felt male last night when I slept. What gives with that? I mean how am I getting these dreams and memories of being Peter Parker whilst I sleep only to wake up a girl? It's like they're rubbing my nose in everything I've lost. I was Peter and not a girl... Without a clear answer or any way of getting one I put aside such dark thoughts. It was hard, and I suspected part of it was due to my altered state. I was unfamiliar with... these emotions.

At least my hands were free. Thank God for small mercies - the webbing had dissolved. I'd hate to have to explain that to anyone. Renfield in particular. Again - where the heck did the webs come from? I examined my fingers closely to find my index finger and forefinger were a bit different near the nail. There was an almost imperceptible join. Like a flap... I felt an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, wondering how far their changes went.

Organic spinnerets? I thanked god again for small mercies. The webbing had not come from my abdomen. Now that would have been weird. Not that this wasn't weird. I paused as I considered. Was this weird? Yes. I was scared and angry and this was weird. Was I weird? God. No. I was just figuring out who I was now. My situation was so messy. I was a female clone with male memories. The female part was subtly different. It wasn't just physical. It was self perception. Emotions. Probably hormones too, affecting how I felt.. This was the hand life had dealt me. But what did it all mean? Was I a girl that wanted to be a guy? I think I'm a girl at least...and I'm used to being a guy...beyond that I don't really know. But I feel different. Was I really a girl though? Hmmm.

I checked. Oh. No. I was definitely a girl. I'm not an expert on these things but I was clearly no longer a guy and... well... it was what I had envisaged. Sorta. Not entirely. But in the ball park. Well there goes my dreams of homecoming with MJ. And a bunch of other stuff I bet. I can always have new dreams. Still... these mongrels had taken the dreams I'd had up till now. Any chance of a life with MJ was shot. That kinda made me angry. Angrier.

Good thing was that after my nights sleep I felt stronger. I guess my recuperative powers remain. My stomach rumbled loudly in my ears. Hungry. Damn I'm hungry. Hangry? Eying all the medical paraphernalia attached to me I decided I didn't need it. Out came the I.V. and... Ew, catheter. Off went the monitoring electrodes. I was still handcuffed to the gurney but I stood on my newly slimmed legs, bare ass hanging from my medical gown, swaying drunkenly. "Whrats frer bweakfasht?" I asked. Then my legs gave out and the gurney fell loudly atop me, pulled by the handcuffs.

Shamefacedly I righted it and climbed back in. A male nurse came over and disapprovingly started to hook up the equipment but I pushed him away. He was tall, square featured and quite fit, probably in his mid twenties with an ex military sense about him. The nurse grunted and retreated. "You're note ready yet," he said.

"Get her something to eat," a female voice instructed over a speaker and the nurse nodded. I looked up into the one way glass. That hadn't been Renfield. Someone else. The nurse soon returned with a tray of food, handing it angrily to me. I stared at the food. "Wrat is thris?" I asked in disgust as, with a shaking hand, I scooped some up with the spoon and let it drop wetly back into the bowl. What onomatopoeia was that exactly? Slop. "Gruel?" I asked, making a sour face.

"Baby food," the nurse said with a malicious grin. "Well minced up worms really. Sadly you're only able to eat mushed up bugs. Something else they did. You're more like a Spider now," the male nurse said with a sneer.

I swallowed, eyes widening. Oh you gotta be kidding me! I felt a sudden surge of anger and fear and my eyes threatened to tear up.

"Blain, please do not taunt Jessica. It's counter productive," a primly suited woman instructed as she entered the room. Her hair was pulled back and she wore horn rimmed glasses. Her voice matched the one from the speaker. Her face was porcelain white and her dark hair made her look like she stepped from a silent movie. "Ignore Blain. You're perfectly normal in your dietary needs Jessica. It's just that your stomach has never processed solids before. We're introducing you slowly to food. A bit like a starved man. Well woman," she explained. I read the name pass on her lanyard - Doctor Phillips.

"Sure thing doc," Nurse Blain agreed unapologetically. "I was only having a little fun with her. No harm intended."

My eyes widened with understanding and I scowled at him, my anger growing. Jerk, your little joke nearly gave me fits.

"Hmmm, very well. See to the others," the woman responded waving the nurse away.

Petulantly I pointed a pair of fingers at the nurses feet and twitched muscles experimentally. The spinneret muscles were new and weak but the target was close. There was a Fizzss sound, distinctly different to the familiar Thwypp of web shooters, and a glob of webbing shot out from my two fingers to ensnare the nurses feet. Blain let out a cry of surprise as he tripped and fell flat on his face. He turned back to me, daggers in his eyes. "Funny?" I asked slowly, carefully enunciating the question as the man angrily removed his shoes and left them webbed to the floor, walking out warily.

I tried some of the food. It tasted like apple compote. Hmm. Mouth feels different. Teeth aren't the same. I spooned another mouthful of food. It's good despite being mush.

The newly arrived woman turned to look at me. "Good Morning Jessica. I'm Doctor Phillips," she said, putting down a large file marked Peter Parker part 7 on my table. "You slept well I hope? I see you figured out your spinnerets."

I eyed the woman, unsure if she was referring to my accident in the middle of the night, my ears burning.

"I'm a Psychologist. I specialise in meta human psychology. I've worked at the Triskelion with both the Avengers and the inmates there, and now work for the CIA. I will be your personal psychologist Jessica." She patted the folder. "I've been reading Peter Parker's file. There is a lot to digest. He is quite young for the mantle of a hero." She smiled. "But I'm here to help you and not him."

I made a sour expression. We were the same person.

"We will be having daily sessions Monday to Friday. Our sessions are being recorded to be reviewed by my superiors and standard patient doctor confidentiality does not apply - due to your non person legal status. You are an EMD and property of the CIA after all." She paused to let her words sink in.

Non person legal status! Property? #%* that! I thought. "Wrats an EMD? You knrow I really hrate TLA's. They're sro... ridonks."

"Entity of Mass Destruction." She frowned. "And what does TLA mean?" Phillips asked cooly.

"Three Lretter Acronrym..." I said.

"Ah. Yes. Of course. The famous Spider-Man wit," She looked me over. "So based on available intelligence it appears that Peter Parker, and therefore you, have not used the services of a psychiatrist before. Is that correct?"

I grunted noncommittally.

"Let us begin then. How are you feeling today Jessica?" Doc Phillips asked.

"You knrow. Nrot myself," I responded warily feeling vulnerable. "And it'sh Peter," I corrected irritably. I felt slightly better. At least I'm getting the hang of speaking with my new mouth... I sound like a little kid though. Like a girl... cause you are Pete. My jaw clenched.

"Peter Parker?" Doctor Phillips took some notes, considered the dossier then shook her head and regarded me with sympathetic eyes. Ah the theatre of condescension. "I'll be blunt Jessica. Moving forward it's best to let go of your past. For you and the ones you love. You aren't Peter Parker and trying to hold onto that will only cause pain and confusion for everyone. This is all unexplored territory. But we need to understand who Peter Parker is and what motivates him for you to move forward. Because you aren't him."

"I ... hadn't... noticed," I grumbled petulantly, taking my time with the words. My ill humour was clear as I scooped another mouthful of the compote and shoveled it into my mouth. Don't let them know they're getting to you Pete. "Wrow. This tastes wonderful. The best meal I've ever had. Well technically it's the first meal I've ever had so it has to be the best... wonder if my tastes differ now. Will have to see I suppose." I made light of my situation. One of my old tricks.

"Right then." She paused dramatically. "Why does Peter Parker wear a mask?" Phillips asked, moving undeterred by my inane banter.

I kept silent as I toyed with my food, an unhappy expression on my face. I didn't want to talk about this but clearly I'm expected too. Perhaps I might get some useful information from Phillips, but my instincts told me to keep quiet. "It looks cool," I suggested. "You know. Dramatic. Like your pauses," I mocked.

"Does it have something to do with that tired cliché that with great power comes great responsibility?" ahe suggested.

She knew that? One of my key tenets... I sighed angrily. The way she'd mocked it I guessed I'd hit a nerve. She thought herself superior. It figured. But antagonism wouldn't help, no matter how good it felt. Time to start this basket weaving session and see what I can learn. "I do it tro... protect... Family ... and... friends," I responded. I feel like I'm betraying them and myself but I'd said this much to any number of cops and random people.

"MJ and Aunt May. Your classmates. Your work colleagues at the Bugle. Yes. Protect them from what?" Phillips asked, writing.

That simple sentence confirmed my fears. They knew about everyone. That was bad. My eyes grew moist and I nodded. This was my worst nightmare. Everyone that matters to me exposed...and I couldn't protect them. I pulled weakly against my restraint. "From... enemies," I stated simply. Enemies like you. You people know way too much about me. I tried to keep the anger from my voice.

"Are you sure?" Phillips pressed.

"Pretty. Sure," I responded darkly. I need to be careful not to give them too much.

Phillips put down her pad and smoothed her business skirt. "I have a number of theories I wish to explore with you today. Usually I take time to unearth a patients issues. But you don't have time. We are working to a deadline," she said.

"Dead is the operative word..." I agreed. They intended on wiping my mind after all.

"Correct. Firstly, we all wear masks, metaphorically speaking. SpiderMan. He is the mask that Peter Parker wears. Loud. Brash. Violent. A raging id let loose on the world. Peter Parker. The super ego. In control. A moral compass. Reserved. Intelligent. A genius based on what I've read in his file. I think Peter Parker enjoys the freedom of being a hero but is ashamed of Spider Man. He could not let himself be Spider Man if people knew it was him. It's not about protecting others but protecting himself. So he compartmentalises his life. Keeps everyone at a distance. Hence the mask," The doctor observed my response.

"You figured that... out all be yourself? Or did you read it... on the back of a chewing gum wrapper?" I chuckled thinly. "You're wrong. I... have enemies," I said.

"Like Otto Octavius and Norman Osborn? They both know who Peter Parker is. Consider how many of Peter Parker's enemies and allies know who he is," she pointed out.

I considered. Black Cat had seen my face. The Kingpin too. I sighed. Mary Jane. The X Men. They knew who Spider Man was. Nick Fury. I grunted. "Do you think I... could join the X Men? You know. Cause I'm an ex man..."

"You're deflecting Jessica," Phillips said.

"What... does it matter? You're going to wipe my mind soon and I'll be gone," I growled.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" she asked.

I stared. What the hell kind of question was that? I didn't respond. %*# her!

"I mean Peter Parker does have a death wish doesn't he?" she clarified.

Again I didn't respond. Her questions made me uncomfortable. Double %*# her! She doesn't know me.

"As I said. I have theories. One is that Peter Parker is trying to kill himself. Up until your Uncle's death his activities were rational. Seeking to use his abilities for personal gain. After Ben Parker's death Peter's actions are ... suicidal. He has constantly thrown himself into situations that should have killed him. Is his guilt so strong that he wants want to die? Do you share his death wish?" she asked.

"I don't want to die," I said with even certainty, resenting her suggestion. She didn't understand me. Probably couldn't.

"Just a theory worth exploring. We've invested a lot in you and it would be a shame if you got yourself killed..." Phillips shrugged.

"Oh %#* you," I muttered darkly.

She paused and wrote for a while. The silence stretched uncomfortably. I pushed my bowl away, my appetite gone. I hated this. The powerlessness. How weak and vulnerable and wrong I felt. How my emotions seemed to change on me. That they had me under a microscope.

She clicked her pen annoyingly and turned to look at me. "They think they can wipe your mind and the program is moving forward based on that assumption. For the next month there will be mental evaluations, physical rehabilitation and baseline testing. Then they wipe your mind and turn you into an agent. Train you properly," she explained clinically.

"So it's okay for you to murder me but suicide is not okay. A bit hypocritical. You want me for my body and not for my mind... a girl could get a complex," I sourly said.

"Honestly I'm not so certain they can wipe your mind. And even if they can there is no certainty that it will stick. Particularly with the link to the Prime..." she explained.

I nodded, liking that possibility. It gave me hope. "That sounds promising."

"What we're doing here is a... redundancy measure... in case the agent training doesn't stick. My job is to get you in the right head space Jessica. Make sure you are okay and not a mental wreck like some of the earlier phases. A rogue EMD that tries to reinsert herself into Peter Parker's life would be... embarrassing for the program. Unfortunate for your family and friends," Phillips explained, her face serious.

Embarrassing sounds like an understatement. Unfortunate...? Was that a threat or a warning? I considered, "You think... I want to take over my old life?" I asked. They fear exposure. They should...

"I don't know. That's a question you need to answer for yourself. I can tell that there have been cloning programs before. Unsuccessful programs. Clones that resented their Primes and tried to take over their lives. Those programs had to be canceled." She paused.

"That sounds very final," I observed not liking the implications. Something possibly worse than a mind wipe.

"Yes. Unfortunate for all parties involved. But your case is rather ... unprecedented. All phases have exhibited retention of Peter Parker's memories, to varying degrees. They are... more mature." Again she paused to let me digest her words.

Doc Phillips continued. "A clone is more like a twin. A physical duplicate with an independent mind of its own. If their ageing is accelerated they are immature and childish. But something links the minds of this projects clones to the Primes. We hadn't known Peter Parker had any psychic abilities. It's inexplicable."

"The Prime?" I repeated, brow furrowing as I considered. She was right. A clone shouldn't have the originals memories. The human mind is an infinitely complex thing. Chances are effectively zero that any two people, even if they shared genetics, would have the same memories. And I was still getting Peter's memories when I slept. I've been body swapped with Wolverine once before by Jean Grey. Could that be the cause? No. Jean wouldn't do this to me. Something else. The symbiote? Hells bells. Best not let them know my thoughts on that.

"I see you understand your unique situation," she said pleased. "Somehow you all remain linked to the Prime and when you sleep you relive his day. The dreams are mentally scarring... your nocturnal emissions and nightmare from last night," she said delicately but I felt irritated and embarrassed all the same. "This is a problem. It prevents all of you from moving on and realising your full potential."

"And it's annoying too," I observed still blushing. They know about last nights dreams. Of course they do. God how embarrassing! Putting aside the problem this presents for me it looks like their super soldier program has a major flaw. They clearly wanted a powerful agent unfettered by morals. My morality was a flaw to them. And if they decide this flaw cannot be resolved will they decide to start again? Will I be cancelled? It's not like they're bound by ethics. Why do I feel like I'm just a disposable asset to them? Is she fishing for reasons to end me?

Phillips smirked. "I bet. No. I want you to be an individual. All of you."

I nodded. "We're on the same page here, clones are people two," I observed wryly. Phillips shook her head at the double entendre. So this Prime mind link might mean they can't mind wipe me and make me into their docile super pet... And I have a shrink to assess me... Is she here to assess the risk I present to their program or to help me? Probably both. They must know I'll never be an assassin. What else could the CIA use me for? I'd probably help with benevolent activities... that didn't seem like them.

"Can we be serious please," Phillips said.

"Sorry, just cloning around," I joked. My gut tells me I need to play along with this head shrinker and tell her and whoever else is watching what they want to hear or it's goodbye mini Pete. Or maybe she's on my side in all this. Maybe. But I doubted it. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose to organise my thoughts.

Phillips eyebrow arched. "So do you think you will try to reinsert yourself into the Prime's life?"

Would I? It was my life. All I'd known. But it wasn't my life. I was the copy. The imposter. This... thing. Thinking about it made me so angry. Could I? It would be the end of Pete's secret identity and any chance of a sane normal life for him. I couldn't do that to him. This wasn't his fault. The risk to my friends and family was just too great. They might not know I existed but that didn't change my feelings for them.

Hi Aunt May. I'm your nephews's female clone Jessica. Why did the CIA clone him? Well because he's Spider-Man. Surprise! I can't see that conversation happening. All Pete's lies would come out and we'd both be on the streets. She'd hate both of us and rightly so... no there.

Oh hey MJ. Yeah. It's me Pete. Oh yeah. I'm a girl now. Isn't this totes cool? I know we broke up but this isn't awkward at all now. Now we're both girls we can be BFF's - we can, like, hang together at the mall, shop, talk about our crushes on boys, share makeup and stuff... No. Never happening.

Could I just turn my back on my life?

I could maybe lurk on the edges. Be a second cousin of Pete's, enrol in his school and live a vicarious version of my old life. Live a lie. That would be worse than turning my back on my old life... Even if the CIA let me... which they wouldn't. Maybe if I went to Sheild ... and then Nick Fury would own me instead.

But a life alone... Never to see those I loved. I'd be protecting the ones I loved though. Their safety was my responsibility. It was a bitter pill but I knew the answer. "Don't worry Doctor. There's no way I'm dragging this ridiculous clone saga back home to Aunt May and Peter Parker. She doesn't know about Spider Man. I'd have to tell her who Peter Parker really is if I ever wanted to explain this." I motioned at my new body. "I'd literally be betraying everything I stand for. And that's not happening. I want her to be safe. She's lost her husband. She's been through enough. I'm not going to ruin her life. Or... or Peters. No. He has his hands full juggling his own dramas without me jumping out of a closet and into his life."

"It's not just May Parker. What about Mary Jane Watson?" Phillips pushed.

I yawned, starting to feel tired. "I just broke up with Mary Jane to protect her. You think I'm going to try and get back together with her?" I snorted derisively and rubbed sleepy eyes. "I have a sinking suspicion that's not going to happen. Even if I wanted it too," I continued, touching my chest to emphasise my point. Yep. The truth hurts. I grimaced. "No. I wear the mask to protect the ones I love. But... this isn't a mask." I motioned at my new face. "This is me now. And there is still a Peter Parker. You have no need to worry, Pete and I are going our separate ways. There isn't room in his life for me. The only reason I would get back into his life would be if you guys threatened it. If you try to use that as leverage on me then it will end badly for everyone. You have my word on that. Tell your bosses that too," I stated. God. That's pretty much the truth. I sat there, the crushing weight of my own words baring down on me. Oh. No. I felt wetness in my eyes. My life as I knew it really was over.

"That's very ... insightful, Jessica. You're Peter Parker no more..." Phillips stated simply.

I up angrily at the Doctor. "Yeah. Woman's intuition," I muttered. My face was not angry but bleak. Jessica Drew? I don't like them naming me. But I'm not sure I have a choice.

Doctor Phillips nodded and considered my clearly troubled state. "It's a start. A good one. I think we're done for today. You look tired. You need more rest and I think you need to consider your situation more."

"Yeah. Um. Can I get some clothes? And can you get rid of the handcuffs?" I yawned.

"I think so. You seem to pose no risk of self harm," the doctor noted. "I'll put in a good word for you."

I nodded my thanks as I lay back down on my gurney and closed my eyes. I'll leave you alone Pete. But can you leave me alone... I wonder. I cleared my throat. "Hey doc? Is it self loathing to hate your clone?" I called.

Doctor Phillips did not respond as she scanned herself out of my cell.

I looked at the camera and smiled with anger evident on my face. "What you should be worried about is me coming after you." I webbed the camera lense.

Blain entered, unlocked my wrist cuff that kept me gurney bound and handed me three pieces of clothing. He also left wrist and ankle manacles on the gurney. "Get changed and put your jewellery on. The wrist cuffs go behind your back. Time for some PT Princess," he said. "If you're up to it."

I examined the clothing. Some kind of long sleeved leotard, a sports bra and sports panties. I rolled my eyes, uncertain whether I preferred the hospital gown over this. No. The leotard wasn't open at the rear. In some ways it was similar from my spider outfit.

I waited for Blain to leave. I didn't like him. He took his sweet time. On purpose I was sure. I turned my back to the one way mirror and clumsily walked over to the curtained alcove that also contained a shower. This time I didn't fall. Yay me. I am the amazing ambulator! Seriously walking was a small victory.

Piped music was turned on as I readied to change. Enya. I groaned as the strains of Orinoco Flow filled my cell. Blain must be torturing me. No one could like that music outside of an elevator. I pulled the curtains shut and changed into the smalls and leotard. I felt only mildly ridiculous. No tutu which was good and as I just said my spidey outfit was similar. It wasn't so much my clothes but my body that made me feel self conscious. I reminded myself I was angry. Angry meant I didn't dwell on other stuff.

As instructed I put on wrist and ankle manacles and then Blain returned and frogmarched me from my room, past a bunch of similarly locked doors to what could only be described as a gymnastics hall. I stumbled once but Blain caught me. "Watch your step bug girl," he grumbled as he guided me in and sat me down on a wooden bench. I still felt tired and weak but I resolved not to let this misogynistic clown see any weakness. There was no sign of my super strength or speed still which worried me.

I noticed that the floor had some give to it, a proper gymnastics floor. Interesting. There were ceiling hung climbing ropes and rings, parallel bars, trampolines, mats, balance beams, a few pommelled horses, horizontal bars, crash mats, spring boards and a bunch of wall and roof hung equipment I didn't recognise. Not a danger room but decent enough.

"You're not at full strength. Probably cause you're a girl," Blain said. He went and got himself a drink from the water fountain then returned and almost disdainfully undid my restraints. "You have an hour. The others were way more physically ahead of you by now... but they're freaks." He laughed. "But then so are you. Go do a circuit... if you can," he said nonchalantly as he left me, making sure to lock me in.

%*#* you I thought.

I sat on the floor and stretched out first, going through a number of different movements. My muscles weren't as elastic or limber as I remembered. New body I redundantly reminded myself. I started to push the stretches harder. I winced in pain but kept going, gritting my teeth. After fifteen minutes I was almost exhausted but I'd be damned if I'd let Blain be right. I was peeved.

Next I started some simple calisthenics. I couldn't hold anything for long. My body felt like it was made of lead and my muscles shook almost violently, but I worked through the pain. I grabbed a drink of water and then tried walking the balance bar. Two steps and I fell off. I did it again. Again.

These people would not defeat me. I'd get back what I'd lost. Anger was my friend. My motivator.

I approached the wall and tried to climb it. My fingers ached and slid. I forced myself, exerting every bit of will. My fingers stuck. I did three pull ups. Then my fingers gave out. Still forming? Must be. But it was coming back. Small victories.

When Blain returned he found me stretching again and seemed amused. "Can you walk?" He asked condescendingly as he dropped my 'jewellery' in front of me. I smiled without amusement as I put the manacles on. Walking back I didn't stumble even though my muscles quivered and my steps were shaky. I got to my gurney and sat, hiding my relief as Blain unlocked me. He motioned to some soup on the nearby table."Grasshopper stew bug girl. Yum yum."

"It's Spider," I corrected him. And I could tell it was pea and ham soup. It smelled wonderful. I'd definitely worked up an appetite. My mouth watered.

"Whatever freak," he said tersely as he turned and left. I contemplated webbing his feet. Nah. That was getting old.

"Blain?" I asked.

He turned around and eyed me. "What?" he asked irritably.

"You've got something on your chin," I said, pointing to my chin.

He went to touch his chin. Perfect. Fizzzs. I webbed his forefinger to his chin. "Think about it," I suggested with a smirk. Blain left in a foul mood and I felt much better.

After lunch an instructor arrived. I was put in manacles again and taken back to the gymnastics hall. My instructor introduced himself as Gong. He was a lean powerfully built man of Chinese extraction in his late twenties. Evidently one of the CIA's best combat instructors and he took me through a tai chi lesson. We didn't talk much. He instructed me on the forms and I listened and copied. My anger and resentment prevented my from engaging in conversation but evidently I was a good student as he was relatively pleased with my progress. After he left I went over the lesson and repeated the forms. Things were getting easier. Then Blain came back. His skin looked a bit tender on his chin. The must have pulled the web off too soon.

As Blain took me back to my room he paused and then said. "I've been thinking..." my spider sense went off as he pushed me over. I fell awkwardly and, as I rolled over to stand, he put a heavy booted foot down on my chest, pressing things I didn't like. I stared up at him, arms pinned behind me and hurting. "Listen freak. In this corridor they can see us on the camera but there is no audio. So we can talk without the doctors or scientists hearing." He rubbed his chin and ground his foot. I cried out. "Getting that webbing off my chin really hurt. You do anything cute like again and you won't just be fishing bugs out of your food. That I promise you. Do we understand each other?"

I stared up at him. He wasn't angry. Just serious.

I was angry. "Go to hell," I snarled.

"You got a temper kid. I'll give you that," he sighed. "There are worse people here than me freak. You need to save that anger for the people doing this to you. I'm just a cog in the machine..," he helped me stand and I angrily twisted my shoulder out of his grip. Or I tried to. With a disappointed sigh he pushed me hard into the wall. "Stop it."

"You're as bad as them," I growled, face and body pinned to the wall. "Beating up a defenceless... person."

"You're not a person. They grew you... you're a thing. And it was you that made this physical. I didn't lay a hand on you until you started in with your webs. So blame yourself." He looked at the hatred in my eyes. "You really don't get it do you? Gong. Phillips. Reilly. You need to worry about them."

"So that makes being a douche ok?" I snapped.

"Heh. Sue me," He sneered as he pulled me roughly away from the wall and guided me to my cell. Once inside he let me go. "So bug girl. Can I trust you enough to take off your manacles?" He asked warily.

Damn him! I hated him. I hated everyone here.

"Freak?" he asked.

"Fine," I snapped.

"Good." He undid my manacles. "I'm glad we had our little talk freak," he said as he turned to leave. "Dinner is stewed worms..."

"Blain?" I called as I eyed the mashed food. It smelled good.

"Yeah," he turned back warily.

"You're a %*%," I said, thumb toying with my spinster fingers. I really wanted to get even.

He nodded. "Glad we cleared that up leach girl. Sweet dreams. Don't let the bed bugs bite," he said.

"It's Spider-Woman," I corrected angrily, rubbing my swollen face.

"Whatever you say freak. Doesn't matter. You'll be gone soon." He shut the door to my cell. Then Enya came back on. Sail away huh? I ate my meal in silence. These guys were going to pay. All of them.

Issue 3: Bargaining

On my second nights sleep I updated on Peter Parker's memories from the previous day. That was something of a head trip, no joke intended. The update wasn't the same as when I'm a passenger. Its hard to explain. They're... more like an annoying recap episode. You know, old footage summarising things for the viewer. Cause they're his memories. Memories aren't the same as living the event.

They're jammed into my head all the same though, pushing my own limited memories about. It's like mixing colours and whites in the wash, everything all bleeding together when you know they should be separate. It's a bad analogy but, well, there it is. I know they're real even though I didn't live them. They aren't mine. But they are. And they sit together with mine. Like I said, weird.

For example this morning whilst I was having my basket weaving session with Doc Phillips I also fought a guy in a giant rhino suit on the way into school. Fun mix of memories. They're each distinct but also both jumbled together. Oddly it seems appropriate.

My recollection of school was the pits and it coincided nicely with my session with Gong and then my encounter with Blain. MJ was talking to some guy so of course I got all jealous and headed off to wallow in self isolation and misery. I'd broken up with her for good reasons so I really had no cause to be jealous! Argh! Could have put that memory to the music of 'I'm gonna eat some worms'... I really should have spoken to her but I think I wanted to be all melodramatic. God I am such a self absorbed Emo twit. Blain pushing me about in the corridor was a nice counterpoint to that.

Not to play at oneupmanship... but what the old me is going through is nothing. Cause at the same time I'm in a cell, a female copy of myself, will probably never see my loved ones again, will never have the relationship I want, and I'm slated for a mind wipe to become their mindless cat's paw... Yeah my memories win first world problem Pete. I'm a failed science experiment made by evil men. I'm not even real, I'm just this thing. I might even be the thing that Spider-Man has to fight. I might even hurt the ones I love... I hate this. I might be the reason why he can't be with MJ. Total head trip.

After all those memories hit I got to vicariously live what was happening in Pete's life concurrent with my sleeping. In some ways this passenger stuff was a welcome distraction from my recap memories or the clone blues and female imprisonment that dominated my waking hours. In some ways it just made things flat out worse. But I don't have a choice in the matter. I have to sleep.

The passenger stuff started after school when I was surfing the Net and looking at all the flamers hating on my take down of the Rhino. I was getting peeved. As I should be but for some reason I was less annoyed than Pete because of my own circumstances. Doc Phillips mentioned something called the Rashomon effect - where an event gets a contradictory interpretations by individuals. So what I saw and felt was not the same as what Pete saw and felt.

-Was this free will?-

I was distracted by the phone. "Yello?" No one spoke, they just hung up. Hmm. Weird. Unknown number. I rolled my eyes and went back to reading the flames, growing incensed.

-But not incensed.-

The phone rang again so I answered. "Hello!" I said, a little angrily.

-And not angry.-

"Uh hi is this Peter Parker?" an unfamiliar girl's voice inquired hesitantly.

"Yes?" I responded. Probably a telemarketer. I prepared to hang up.

-I really shouldn't though.-

"This is... Kitty Pryde." She said. Kitty Pryde. Holy %#. I stared at the phone picturing the girl from the X-Men. She can phase through stuff... "Uh do you remember me?" I felt a sense of dread.

"How did you get this number?" I asked in shock.

-I was less worried about the exposure of my secret identity than first world problem Pete. Kitty knew who I was after all.-

"Information," she stated simply.

"Oh." That made sense.

"Um, yeah, sorry to call you out of the blue and all but I was wondering..." she trailed off and the silence stretched out awkwardly.

"Hello?" I prompted.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked quickly.

"Uh, School," I responded, unclear what she was asking.

-Wait. How could you be this dense Pete. Do you not get that she is asking you out? Do I have to connect the dots for you?!-

"I mean, like, after that?" she said, sounding tense.

"Why? Is everything okay?" I asked concerned.

-She is asking you out. Argh. This is painful!-

"Yeah. No. What?" she asked, confused.

I was getting confused to. This conversation was totally non-sequitur. "Is there something going on with Wolverine again, or-"

-You're confused? What about me?!-

"No, no, no this is, um, like I'm asking you if you want to hang out with me, like, uh, after school," she suggested.

"With the X-Men?" I attempted to clarify. That could be fun. Especially with how my life was currently. You are an idiot Mr Parker.

-Oh. My. God. Someone shoot me. This is worse than when Black Cat threw up on me... Earth to Peter! She is asking you out!-

"No. Just... me," she said quietly.

I straightened in my chair. "Really?" Wait. Was she asking me on a date!

-Oh thank god I figured it out. I thought we were smart. Evidently not.-

"Yeah," she said.

"Uh, yeah... yeah!" Hell yeah. That would be sweet.

-I agree.-

"Really?" she asked almost surprised.

"Yeah," I affirmed with a grin.

-Don't blow this you chump... you are so going to blow this. I just know it...-

"You don't have a girlfriend do you?" she asked with concern.

I considered MJ. She was off with that guy. "No."

"You promise?" she pressed, sensing my hesitation.

"I did, but I don't anymore. It's a whole thing. But no- I do not have a girlfriend." I didn't really want to go into this.

-Yeah. Don't go into this Pete. First smart thing you've done.-

"Man, I'm sorry I worded it that way. It was just-" she started to apologise.

"No, it's ok. I under-"

"What time do you get out of class?" Kitty interrupted. I was glad.

"3:30," I said. This was a date!

"You want to meet there or-?" Kitty enquired.

"Yeah, sure, yeah," I readily agreed.

"Okay." She seemed pleased.

I sure was. I frowned. School... this had to be a Peter Parker thing. "Hey, um, don't-"

"What?" she asked getting worried.

"Don't come in costume. Or uniform or whatever you guys call-" I started.

-Good thinking-

"Oh, I know that.. duh," she laughed.

"Okay, just making sure, I've had some close calls and-"

"Yeah, I was there for a couple of them," she agreed happily.

"That is true," I said with a grin.

"But you know, if not for those I wouldn't have- um so 3:30 where?" Kitty finished.

"Midtown High, Queens," I supplied.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay. Um, Kitty?" I started.

"Yeah."

"Thanks for- Thanks for calling like this. This was pretty cool of you," We hung up. I stared at the phone. Grinning. Best part of my day. My week. (USM Annual 1)

-I agree.-

So awkward. So fresh and new and exciting. I turned back to my computer and googled the X-Men. There Kitty was. I stared at her. The girl who'd asked me out on a date. I think I'm... well I don't know. It's definitely a crush. It's great. I hope we both agree this is great. But I also felt a stab of jealousy. That was unexpected.

So was this a rebound thing? No. She'd asked me out. Cause Kitty Pryde was... wonderful. A sweet Jewish girl. A member of the X-Men. Nervously asking me out on a date. I liked that. Kinda innocent. Uncertain. It was... exciting.

And unlike MJ she could take care of herself and understood all this hero stuff. That was the best part.

Unlike Black Cat she was a girl I could take home to meet Aunt May. Perhaps. Black Cat to Kitty. Hmm, was there a pattern there? No. Just a coincidence.

Then I was going to bed. Oh. No. They were meant to wake me... why aren't they waking me? Wake up!

The dream was surreal. It was twilight. Neither night nor day but an indeterminate space between. In the distance I could see the Queensboro Bridge and I felt a twinge of foreboding menace. But the two dimensional cityscape dominated. Deep purples and black blues and burnt reds. This dream was like the others but unlike them. There was a sense of... hope.

Kitty was there in her X-Men uniform. She seemed shy and coltish. There was awkwardness there but there was also a strength. I felt it. Something special about her. There was a larger than life aura to her. And a sense of mutual enjoyment in each other's company. We were together and it felt so right. So full of possibilities.

The sun was rising. We were heroes watching a brand new day dawn. The city emerged from the dark colours and the somber gave way to a myriad of bright sparkling tones. An idyllic euphoria suffused the city, beautiful and fragile as it awoke. Together we stood guardian over it. Protecting it and... one another. Making each other stronger. Equals. Able to deal with anything thrown at us.

Kitty turned to me. Oh. Great. There go our clothes. Wait. Not. Again.

I awoke panting as before but most like from the dream with Black Cat. This time I hadn't webbed myself. Still... wow. Clearly Pete really liked Kitty. He had a crush. By sharing that dream with me I had more than a crush. I groaned. I think... I'm in love. Or lust. God I don't know. I get why these dreams are a problem though. "Thanks for waking me up," I called as I panted, Kitty's face still firmly in my mind.

"This was your wake up call Jessica. Don't make threats to the camera. Those above me are not pleased," Ben Reilly said. Bloody Renfield.

I lay there awake, trying to separate my feelings from Peter's. It was impossible. We were the same person inside. My unique life experiences so far were too limited. Envy and jealousy were mine. Anger and empty depression were mine. And I feared unrequited love would be mine. He should call it off with Kitty. For me. Cause I sensed nothing but heartbreak there for me. But he didn't know about me.

I wanted what he had. I wanted his life. No matter how terrible he thought it was I wanted it. I wanted school. I wanted home. I wanted Aunt May's cooking and anger. I wanted her to care about me. Even her disappointment and frustration would be welcome. I wanted an exgirlfriend to worry and drama about. I wanted what was developing with Kitty Pryde. I wanted the thrills of fighting villains. I wanted the frustration of people hating Spider-Man. I wanted my life back.

I looked about my prison, the camera, the curtained shower, the one way glass, the sense of being watched, prodded and measured. I looked down at my female body. I didn't want this.

I wanted Kitty Pryde as much as Pete. To be honest, thanks to his dream, I suspected I wanted her more. And I'd never, ever have her...

I am Peter's sexual confusion. I am Peter's existential crisis. I am Peter's living tautology. I am Peter's snowclone. I thought this as my muscles ached. I wore a t-shirt and track pants, hair held back with a hair tie. I stood on the practice mat, holding the form and moving slowly, purposefully.

"Focus Jessica!" Gong instructed firmly.

"Yeah, yeah," I responded, brow beaded with sweat, bringing my focus back onto the matter at hand. I am Peter's yin. I shook off the random thoughts and focused on the precise movements of the forms and tried to let them flow. Second class in as many days. Should have stretched more after all my practice yesterday but I was too tired. Muscles feel smashed now. But my strength is gradually returning, I'm almost human strong. And my endurance is increasing.

"Good. I have seen the videos of the Primes fighting technique. Fast, strong, agile, utterly amazing. But undisciplined. This will give you discipline," The master continued, pushing m elbow up and then showing me the correct movement. "Your rehab physiotherapy is also intended to give you new skills and, I hope, the mental discipline to help you cope with situations you find yourself in."

We moved as a pair through the forms in decent harmony. I was actually kind of enjoying this. And the physical activity was a welcome distraction from my thoughts. That update on Pete's love life last night was confusing. Arranging a date with Kitty Pryde followed by that intense dream. Training was handy not to crush on her... so confusing. I felt like a voyeur... and my emotions were way too intense now. I needed this diversion.

"So Gong, what do you do for the CIA when you aren't rehabbing super soldiers," I enquired.

Gong smiled thinly. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded

"So can I," He said curtly then changed subjects. "Whilst you appear 15 your body is still young and developing, most significantly your prefrontal cortex. Reilly tells me that in this formative period your more mind remains more open to learning. This might only be your second lesson but you move almost as a rank one already when you focus. Remember. Relaxation and harmony, flowing motion, round and natural movements, coordination of the whole body," Gong instructed.

I nodded. I like the freedom of being Spider Man, the physical exhilaration is ... well thrilling. I want that back. And Gong gets that. He's a decent enough guy as well. May as well make lemonade from these lemons.

"But don't overdo it Jessica. I saw that you practiced for most of yesterday until you were utterly exhausted. I can tell you're sore and it's hindering my classes. Do not let your inner demons drive you to ruin. This is your third day awake. One must crawl before one walks," Gong advised.

That's who I am I decided as I nodded. You're not changing who I am. You might change my body and my wardrobe. Sports bras. Jeez! But I am who I am.

"Life is change, constantly shifting circumstances that we have to adapt to. Living is dealing with that change," Gong said.

I frowned in surprise. "Are you reading my mind?"

"Hardly. I can scarcely understand what you are going through. But your fears are clear on your face and Tai Chi philosophy might help you deal with them," he suggested. We completed the twenty fourth form in silent concentration. I went and got a drink. "You're doing well today. Practicing I see, but not too much... You're still forming."

"Yes Master Gong, it shall be so," I said in clipped English, lips moving out of sync with my words in mimicry of a badly dubbed Kung fu flick.

Gong seemed unamused. "I can see why you're in the super soldier program," He said. "But don't get smart. There is always someone better..."

"Thanks. But, well, I'd really like to practice some sparring. I feel up to it and, um, I'm at normal human strength at the moment. I don't know how long that will last. I'd really like to test myself on an even playing field with you," I said.

Gong grinned. "I didn't want to push you too soon, but I think you're ready to try." He motioned me to come forward. We faced off and he bowed then readied himself.

I moved forward and led with a fast low spin kick which Gong jumped and then countered with a rapid flurry of punches. I blocked as I back stepped, then grabbed at a punch. Before I had superhuman speed and strength. Now I didn't. I missed the grab and left myself open. My spider sense tingled as Gong kicked out and breath exploded from my lungs as I arced up and then landed flat on my back on the mat, stunned. "Ow," I moaned, clutching my stomach. I didn't like losing.

"Are you okay Jessica?" Gong asked.

"Nothing wounded but my pride," I responded honestly. I didn't like being called Jessica but I let it slide. My sessions with Gong were useful I felt certain. No point in getting on his bad side.

"You know..." Gong proceeded to dissect the fight and show me a number of possible counters and moves I could have made, then linking them to the forms.

I absorbed what he said. I felt that my fighting technique was rudimentary at best. Without super speed, strength and reflexes I needed every edge I could get. I could use my webbing, spider sense and wall crawling grip but I liked this mundane challenge.

"You're quite good but not overly skilled. You rely too much on your powers and your balance needs work - without your powers you need to be more conscious of how you move until it is unconscious. Tai chi is one fighting style but there are many. With training and practice you can move between them as need dictates. A normal human with sufficient training and skill might come close to defeating Spider-Man. But if you had the right training I suspect you would be formidable indeed."

We continued to have bouts, Gong defeating me every time with little effort. Each time he would explain what I did wrong and provide advice on how to better respond to the circumstances that lead to my defeat. I did land one blow but that didn't even seem to phase him and he countered with unusual strength sending me flying back. That was unexpected. I started to review the attack in my mind but Gong continued his attack, my spider sense going off. I did a backwards somersault, barely evading as I danced away. On impulse I produced a short webline which I stretched tight between my widespread hands and used to divert his next few punches.

"Interesting..," he observed as he double punched and grabbed at it two fisted. I let it go and he pulled it back to throw it away. Instead the web stuck to his hands the elastic ends sprang back and further entangled his wrists. "Huh... from my talks with Blain I know this takes two hours to dissolve. That's annoying..." He moved suddenly and the webbing snapped. "Good thing I'm not Blain."

I eyed him speculatively. The force needed to snap my old webbing was beyond most people. Was he super powered? I wasn't sure. He was definitely strong and skilled. That was it. We stopped for a drink. After that he showed me some of the basic throwing, grappling and strike techniques of Judo, then went through a number of other martial arts techniques, showing key elements and moves. I repeated them carefully, guided by his exacting eye. "Huh. I see there are some similarities in all of them," I observed.

"Yes. There is no perfect martial art. Some are more useful in certain circumstances than others. All are grounded in principles of physics - and with your keen scientific mind you can see that I am sure. We should try some of the various rope and chain based techniques. Seems like they may be worth learning."

"Enter the Spider!" I said in mock dubbed voice.

"Perhaps. I think grapples might be good to practice as well with your sticky fingers..."

I nodded. As Gong left I considered what I had learned and started to practice, evaluating how I had previously fought and how I would in the future. I had much to learn it seemed.

"I've come across numerous powered patients displaying body dysmorphia before - BDD. It's a mental illness involving obsessive focus on a perceived flaw in appearance," Phillips explained, coming to the end of our second session. "The sufferer can feel ostracised and unloved, believing that the people around them view them negatively or humiliate them as a consequence of their perceived defects," Doc Phillips said.

"Like I'm perceiving I have girl parts, that I am alone and unloved. It's not paranoia if they're out to get you Doc. Thanks to Renfield my body is nothing like it should be. Move on," I told the doctor.

"Renfield?" she asked.

"Ben Reilly... I call him Renfield it's a Literary reference. He's Dracula's pawn, a bug eating madman living in an insane asylum seeking immortality... it seemed apt given the circumstances. Someone higher up in the CIA is pulling his strings I am sure," I said.

"Ah. Yes. Renfield Disorder. I'm sure Ben would dislike the allusion," Phillips said.

"I'm as concerned for his feelings as he is for mine," I stated.

"So. Which parts of your body do you feel most self conscious about?" Doc Phillips asked.

I looked at her mildly. "Where should I start?" I responded. "Look, I'm alive. For now. Personally I think I'm doing ok in spite of what you've done to me. I think I could maybe work for the CIA-"

"FBI," she corrected. I frowned. Renfield had said CIA. I didn't like the inconsistency.

"FBI then. I could be an agent without you guys wiping my mind," I offered. "I mean being Spider-Man isn't just the powers. It needs judgement. Motivation. Willpower. You wipe my mind and you're only getting half the package. This would be domestic work right? I could fight the good fight to protect the American Way."

"Sadly that's not part of the project. Our brief is quite specific," she responded.

"Well perhaps you need to review your brief..." I argued. "I don't want to die. There is no need to murder me. I could be of use to you-" I tried to negotiate.

"You present too much of a risk to the project. I doubt you can change. This is best for everyone.

"I think we are done for the day Jess. I'll see you again tomorrow." With that Phillips stood and left.

I grimaced as Blain put the music on. Enya. "Oh joy," Soon after Blain came in and gave me my lunch.

"Hey freak. You'll like this. Cockroache risotto..." It was French fries, sausages and mash. I was off.

The usual insults were easy to ignore. I ate in silence as I considered what I could say to convince them not to erase my mind. It was hanging over my head like an ominous cloud. Were these people with the CIA or FBI? Or something else? An institution perhaps. Military or industrial. Was it S.H.E.I.L.D.? I never really did trust Nick Fury. Oscorp? That would be bad. Trask Industries? I just didn't know.

After lunch I went to the gymnasium and, watching the time, did about three hours of exercise. I as at human level strength now. It worried me that it wasn't coming back to superhuman levels. I looked at the time. Whilst they kept the place in perpetual darkness or artificial light they had clocks. It was three pm. Close to the end of school. Time for Pete's hot date with Kitty Pryde.

I'd been thinking about this all day. Should I be a passenger to their date or just get the memories? I really wanted to be a passenger. But I knew I'd be setting myself up for a fall. Kitty didn't know about me. I didn't exist for her. And if we ever met... what? She wouldn't see me as anything other than an incomplete copy of Pete. Lacking the important parts of a boyfriend. God was I lacking. Certainly there wouldn't be any romantic interest from her. Well there was no certainty but I figured she'd probably run in fear. Or pity me. Pity would be worse. And it was wrong to intrude on their date. But... I swallowed. I liked her. Pete liked her and I was Pete. This promised to be the weirdest love triangle ever. If it was love. I didn't know but I wanted to find out.

So I called Blain and allowed him to escort me back to my room. I showered, dried and changed. I wanted to make a good impression after all. I sighed. I was going on a date I thought as I looked about my cell. And you can all go to hell... (go read USM annual 1).

Issue 4: Depression

I shivered awake, the remnants on the day I'd shared with Pete and Kitty still fresh in my mind. I grinned. That had been a great first date. Perhaps the best one ever. Peter Parker was a lucky guy. And Kitty Pryde... wow. I longed for my old life at that moment. Ached to be with Kitty. But it could never be. Because no matter how much I wanted it I wasn't Peter. Not anymore. I sighed. Maybe this had been a bad idea. I felt a bit like a stalker. A peeping Tom. Somehow... Unclean. It was one thing to get his memories. It was another to purposefully follow him like this. I felt guilty. But it was the only good thing in my life. The rest was so... depressing. No. It was my life damn it. Mine! And they'd taken it from me... they couldn't make me feel guilty. And besides I'd be dead and gone soon. Mind wiped. This holding on to what I'd lost didn't hurt anyone. I may as well get what I could out of what little life I had left. No one could begrudge me that...

I frowned as I realised that something had woken me up. I was cold. My covers were off. What the?! I'm not alone. Someone had lifted the covers letting cool air into my bed. Oh jeez. Someone stood over me.

"Hey. I'm Krystal, make some room," a girl nervously said. What the? She'd removed her outer clothes and shoes. She stood awkwardly in a tshirt and was moving to climb into bed with me.

I stared then held up a hand to push the girl away. "Umm. I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"Krystal. I just said. They paid me to sleep with you. Lots of money. I don't get anything if I don't. So move over. I really need the money," the girl said, smiling unconvincingly. Her voice sounded a little scared. She looked to be young, about fifteen or sixteen. In the dark it was hard to tell.

"Um. They're paying you?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Yeah. Well they said they would. I'm having doubts now. And I don't do this for fun," the girl responded tightly as she climbed in.

I climbed out, clearly uncomfortable. This whole situation scared me, worse than dealing with my villains gallery. "But that's illegal," I said inanely. She looked... cute. From what I could tell she was definitely scared.

"What are you, a cop?" Krystal asked, looking annoyed as her eyes flicked to the cameras.

"No, just a, well, a concerned citizen," I responded. Something was off here. She smells. Where did they get this girl?

"Listen, I'm a consenting adult. This is a victimless crime. It's a time honoured profession and all that," Krystal said.

Underage prostitution is not victimless... I looked doubtful. "Well I'm not an adult. I'm fifteen. And they monitor this room, both audio and visual. Everything. I'm not making a movie for these people... I'm not doing this. Period."

"Okay ..." Krystal sounded even more scared. "So am I... Er. So this is illegal then? We're the same age. So I don't think it is... Jeez. They said you were into girls. Kitty or something was your

girlfriend's name."

Oh god, they'd noticed me going to bed early for the date with Kitty and had gotten me another date... that was just wrong. "I don't know. I'm not a... Er. You now. A lesbian," I said. Was I? I wasn't really a girl... even if I looked like one... I didn't want to deal with this. Maybe they should just mind wipe me and get this over with.

"They were offering crazy money so, like, I said I was into girls too. I mean, cause, it's not my kinda thing but, well, how bad could it be with a girl? Guys just treat you like, you know, an object or worse. They're mean jerks but, well, I can deal with that. Act ... you know? Some girls can get bitchy but aren't quite the same. Not as bad... mostly ... so I figured, um, why not, especially if the money was good? It's not like a homeless runaway has many options. I mean I can't afford the luxury of innocence or even love. That ship sailed a long time ago. So. This just seemed..." Krystal shrugged helplessly.

Oh. Damn. That's harsh. I nodded. "Treated like an object? Yeah. Well I'm not... a guy. So what are they paying you for exactly?" I asked.

"To sleep with you," Krystal said resignedly. "If they ever pay me. I'm starting to think I made a bad mistake."

"Their exact words?" I asked. It's Friday night. Gong and Phillips won't be here till Monday. This doesn't feel like something Phillips would do, must be someone else. But what?

"Yeah," Krystal said.

"Well. It's a small bed and a bit tight but I don't mind sharing it. Just to sleep," I said hesitantly. "Only to sleep. Contract fulfilled and all that," I suggested, forcing a smile.

"I guess that could work," Krystal held up the covers and I reluctantly climbed back in. It was a tight fit.

I sniffed. "I don't mean to be rude. But... there is a hot shower in the corner and that drawer there has new, never before used underwear. Below it are new t-shirts. I have some sports bras. Not sure they'll fit. I'm a bit flat..." I was rambling. What was I saying?

"Hot shower. Oh hell yes! It's been like five days!" Krystal said, fear and worry reduced as she eagerly took me up on the offer, jumping out of the bed and heading to the shower. "You're not flat. I'd say we're about the same size."

I lay back and stared at the ceiling. Was this what would happen to me if I ran? Homeless, on the streets, selling my body? Is that what they're trying to tell me? Or are they trying to get me more used to my body. Take advantage of a down on her luck street kid. Like I'm going to go along with that! That pisses me off! God. This world is a toilet sometimes. Krystal seems so powerless. But she'd mentioned Kitty. This must be some kind of psych test.

Over the sound of the shower Krystal called. "So what is your deal? Are you a prisoner or something?"

"Something. Better to not ask too many questions. Do you know where we are?" I asked concerned. I didn't want to cause problems for the girl, hopefully they would let her go, but any information about the outside world was useful.

"Uh. No. They blindfolded me. I was worried they were disappearing me. I hope this isn't that. People talk about it on the streets. Thought it was urban myths at first but I had a friend, Derrick, that disappeared. Someone told me they saw him get into a big black van. I think it might be like the one I got into... and then, well, he was gone. Just like he never existed. It's scary."

I considered. Kidnaping street kids? Were there other super soldier programs? Of course there were. But were they using street kids. It made a sick kind of sense. "No. I hope this isn't that. I hope. So where do you live?"

"There is a place. An old factory. Near the warves. I sleep there sometimes," Krystal called. "But I move around."

"Oh yeah. I think I know it. Hey! Room service. Blain? Some food for my guest please?" I called as I lay there, my back to the shower as Krystal took her time showering then finished up, dried, got fresh clothes and dressed. Some food was pushed under the door.

"These really are new. Wow. This prison has great room service," Krystal observed.

"Yeah. And you don't have to tip," I agreed.

Krystal was dressed and climbing under the sheets. "This beats the factory and some of the other squats I've used. Not a fan of the locked doors though. God I hope they don't stiff me."

Jess nodded. Yeah. You could end up as a stiff with these people. God it's cramped but not... well... unpleasant... I decided. I lay with my back to Krystal. This closeness is... I wiped an errant tear from my moistening eyes. I've been on tenterhooks the whole time. I didn't realise I was missing human contact. I sniffled.

"Er. Are you ok?"

I grunted affirmatively. "Fine."

"I didn't catch your name," Krystal said.

"No. Sorry, you didn't. Best not to know," I said.

"Oh," Krystal looked at the camera and the locked door. "Oh," Then she whispered in my ear. "Listen. I took video of the van and driver. Got his face real good. Posted it on my Twitface feed under #kidnapvan before I approached the van."

I considered. "Do you still have your phone?"

"No. They took it," Krystal said. "I'm in trouble aren't I?"

I turned about to face Krystal and in a hushed voice I told her what I knew. "Yeah. These people are bad. They're doing illegal genetic manipulation. If they've been kidnaping street kids then it's worse than I thought."

"Really?" Krystal asked.

I nodded mutely. Krystal buried her face in my chest and started to cry. I put my hands about her and hugged her, trying to calm her. I felt bad for what I'd said but my gut told me that she was a prisoner like me. She cried herself to sleep, tears on my neck. I lay there feeling terrible. And lay there. Sleep did not come. It's good to just have some company. Someone there. But I kinda wished Krystal wasn't here. I chuckled dryly. A girl in bed with me. And I'm a girl. Damn it. The old Parker luck huh? I lay there waiting for dawn, for Peter to awake so I could sleep. It was a long time coming.

"I'm not sure I get modern art," I said as I looked at the polka dot sculpture. I tilted my head, hoping that the change in perspective might provide more insight. Nope. "Yayoi Kkusama. Kinda psychedelic."

"Yep yep. And this one. Takashi ... Murakami? This artist is out there no doubt," Kitty agreed with a mild widening of her eyes. "Mr DOB is cool but some of the sculptures... I think he's going for pure shock value. Let's move on..."

"Yeah. You know I prefer Chiho Aoshima's stuff. Or maybe Chiharu Shiota's..." I observed. "Japanese culture is... different."

Kitty laughed. "Duh. You're just used to the American culture... or just monoculture. Have you ever been anywhere else in the world?" She asked.

"Heh. No. Oh wait. South America once... I think. But why would I want to?" I responded.

-hmmm-

Kitty eyed me disbelievingly. "Why wouldn't you? Art. Culture. Language. Food. Architecture. History. Different perspectives. Different ways of living. Different priorities... The USA is just... so small and insular. I want to see the world," She explained.

-Her enthusiasm was so... contagious. She has such passion. God that sounds like an adventure.-

I shrugged noncommittally. "I have things I need to do here. Commitments. Maybe one day though."

-I'd like to see it with you. I'd love to escape. I don't have any commitments...-

We moved on. It was an odd gallery. Located on the fifteenth floor of a modern hi-tech office building near Central Park owned by the Yashida Corporation. Being Saturday morning the rest of the building was pretty much empty. In their e-mail exchange of the night before Kitty had mention she could get passes from Wolverine. It was pretty exclusive and well beyond anything I could afford to see. The art hadn't interested me much but sure Kitty did so we'd agreed to meet.

My spider sense went off to the sounds of crashing and screaming from the room beyond. "Oh damn. We have trouble. I need to change into my spider suit. You should do the same... what do you have under your clothes? I mean, you came prepared right. Er, you have your outfit on underneath right?" I blushed as i realised I was picturing her out of her clothes. Sort of.

"Peter, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that..." Kitty said with a cute grin as she phased through the floor.

"You there! Stop! Come here! You're my prisoner. Don't hide in there, whatever that room is," a voice yelled. I looked back to see an overweight dude stuffed into a black onesie, the paunch of his stomach overhanging his skin tight Lycra pants. He held two techno guns and they were somehow carrying three gallery patrons behind him. He looked kind of like a muffin the way his stomach hung out... Professor Muffin? I rolled my eyes as I darted into a janitor's closet and pulled the door shut. I looked around as I changed, noting all the cleaning gear.

I timed it perfectly. As Professor Muffin fired one of his techno guns at the door and destroyed it I leapt out. "Supplies!" I informed him as I suddenly exited in an explosion of timber from the supply closet, kicking the villain in his prodigious stomach, catching him by, well, surprise.

"Curse you!" he said as he waved an arm reflexively. One lady screamed and another swore and the man grunted and looked horrified as they flew through the air and out through the nearby window, the glass shattering. I twisted in the air, webbing furiously, narrowly avoiding disaster as I caught the three thrown civilians in hastily cast web nets strung between the buildings outside. "Jeez. What's your beef Professor Muffin? Throwing people out of windows isn't nice."

The guy in the black onesie snarled. "It's Klepto!" he declared as he tried to turn his odd ray on me.

"Ow. I'm sorry. That sounds kinda contagious. Can you get a cream for that?" I said as I deftly dodged the weird energy beam. A statue got caught instead and was thrown out the window.

"No you idiot. My name is Klepto. The worlds greatest thief..." the hooded villain said in exasperation, pointing his beam gun at where I had just been standing and sending a painting spinning through the air. I spun in the air, kicked off the wall and sped by the guy.

"Hmm. Judging by your actions so far I would have thought

Defenestrator suited you better," I noted. As if to prove my comment a bunch of small plastic sculptures were caught by Klepto's ray and went hurtling out the window.

"Argh. My beautiful art. Stand still you buffoon!"

I laughed as I webbed the guys hands together. "You're new to this aren't you. I dodge, crack wise and then wham! You're out and then the cops take you away. I don't stand still," Klepto fired two fisted, shredding the web, grazing me and sending a digital art installation sparking out the window. "You know you might want to consider The Critic as a name given how you're treating that art."

"I am Klepto!"

"We named the dog Klepto..." I said as Kitty phased up through the floor behind him. She merely waved her hands through his guns and the complex electronics within them sparked and failed.

Klepto let out a cry as I finished him off with a single punch. "Nice tag teaming. Hang on a sec." I webbed up the wannabe villain then swung out and rescued the three terrified people from the web nets, one at a time. Each clung to me in terror. "Fifteen storeys up. Once my webbing dissolves it's a long way down. The fire department might not even be able to reach them," I explained to Kitty after they'd all rushed off. "Plus they all looked pretty terrified."

The police were arriving as I grabbed the web bundle that held my clothes from the supply closet. Kitty held me in a very friendly hug and she tried to kiss me as we phased down through the floor, away from the gallery patrons and cops. Kissing through a mask doesn't really work. She realised that pretty quick. She laughed self consciously.

"Hmmm. I'm getting to like travelling with you like this." I hugged her closer and removed my mask, inhaling her hair. "But we need to work on the kissing..."

"Yeah." We kissed properly this time. Much better.

"Mmmm... What took you?" I asked as we finally separated and I realised we'd come into an empty office on the floor below.

"I'm not as quick as you at getting out of my clothes," she said as she picked up her discarded jeans, shoes and top.

"Yeah, I noticed," I responded. "I could help you practice."

"What? Help get me out of my clothes? Settle down Mr Parker," Kitty teased with a slightly nervous giggle. "It's still a little early for that."

I blushed. "That's not what I meant," I said as I tore open my webbing and took out my own clothes and dressed.

"I know. But you're so cute when you're embarrassed." She laughed as she finished dressing. Fortunately we'd both worn their hero outfits beneath our street clothes for this gallery date.

I grinned. "You're much less nervous than on our first date. I... it's good."

"You know I think we complement each other nicely."

"Yes. I think you're cute too," I said.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Complement not compliment."

"Potato potato," I stated with a grin as I took her hand and we headed to the stairwell.

"Wakey wakey sleepy head. It's late!" Krystal called, snapping me out of my dream. "So what do they do for fun here?"

I winced irritably as the passenger experience faded. Back to my real life. I had a headache and felt off. I stretched taking my first good look at my guest. Red hair. Some freckles. Cute but her eyes were swollen from crying even though she was as trying to put on a brave face now. Huh. She looks kinda like MJ. Coincidence? Not likely. My guess it was someone's clumsy attempt at match making. They really don't get it. MJ is unattainable now. We broke up. Plus I'm not Peter. She likes Pete. Not me. They're not helping me cope. They're rubbing salt in a wound. Hells bells. Now if she looked like Kitty... I grimaced.

Krystal grew uncomfortable and I realised I was staring. "Um. What do I do? I read and exercise," I responded, face colouring as I turned to look at myself in the mirror. My reflection showed a mixture of sadness and melancholy. But also looked a bit... puffy. What the heck? I winced feeling an ache in my joints. And my breasts felt swollen. I frowned. Was I sick? I didn't feel a hundred percent.

"Read and exercise? Well that's boring. You have a television right?" Krystal asked. "I looked but couldn't see one."

"I never asked. I guess I could get one. What do you like to watch?" I asked, worrying a bit. Was I getting sick. I continued my self examination. Was I fatter?

"I like romances and some action flicks. I saw most of the new SpiderMan movie last week. Snuck into the cinema from the fire escape," she said. "It was great until the usher busted me. Hey room service. Can we get a movie player and the new Spider Man film? Oh. And popcorn."

"Oh. I've not caught it. Been... busy," I said. That's the last film I want to watch!

"Let's see if we can watch it. I like Spider-Man. I've been following his career. He hit the scene about the same time I arrived in New York from New Hampshire," Krystal confided.

"You think he's cute?" I asked, strangely intrigued.

Krystal made a noncommittal noise. "He swings around in his undies. Hardly cute. Weird. Definitely weird. I thought he must have a bug face under his mask till I heard him. He sounds like a prepubescent boy so I reckon its to hide achne. But he leaves a lot of condemned buildings in his wake and that's handy when you're looking for a place to live."

"Is that safe? Those buildings are not structurally sound," I said as I climbed out of bed. There was a breakfast tray and I picked it up and took it to the table. Krystal had already eaten. I pushed the food around, my appetite gone. Weird.

"Safe? Compared to sleeping in a building with other homeless people. It's all relative. And there are often things left you can pawn," Krystal said as I tried to eat.

I laughed. "So the homeless appreciate all his destruction? That's funny."

A quarter hour later a blue ray player was pushed under the door along with popcorn and a copy of the requested film. I gave up on breakfast having no appetite and stripped the mattress off the bed and lay it on the floor. We made a comfy place and started the film.

We watched the movie in silence for a while. "Do you think he has those organic web shooters. I heard," Krystal started.

"Shhh. No he doesn't. Oh man. Did they do any research? Do they even understand physics!?" I opined. "That's not possible! It breaks!"

"Calm down. It's just a movie," Krystal said.

"I know but ... what the? They used that footage. I mean really, those cheapskates," I rolled my eyes. "Oh. There's Kong..."

"Can he really sense things?" Krystal wondered.

"Shh. Yes, he has spider sense. But it doesn't work like... oh my god is that defamatory? I think it is. Spider-Man needs to get a lawyer!" I threw popcorn at the screen. "Sam Raimi sucks!" We watched some more in silence. "What? In what universe is Spider Man a Harem anime?"

"What?" Krystal asked.

"He has Black widow and then Captain Marvel after him. Plus his two assistants?!. Is this Days of Our Lives or something? This is just... irresponsible!" I was livid. More of the movie payed out.

"Huh? Do you think he really has a spider cave. I read he did in the enquirer," Krystal pondered.

"Seriously? No." We watched some more in silence. I laughed. "That motorbike that can drive on walls is an unashamed grab for

merchandising," I groaned. "And why so many villains! Why!? You'd think they'd have learned to keep things simple." The movie neared the end. "They think he got his powers from his space spider mother. She ate his father!? That's ridiculous!"

"I don't know it kinda makes sense," Krystal said.

"Shh. You're ruining the movie!" I snapped.

"I'm ruining the movie?!" Krystal asked grabbing the popcorn. She smirked. "I thought you preferred girls but clearly you've got a huge crush on Spider Man!"

"What? No. That's not possible!" I said.

Krystal laughed. "Uh Huh. You think he's cute."

"Ew. No. I'm just a discerning movie fan," I protested as I turned grumpily back to watch the film finale. "I do not have a crush... and... whatever."

As the credits crawled I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. "How much did that movie make again?"

"Over 800 million I think," Krystal said.

"Yeah. I thought so..." I muttered. That's not happening again. I'm going to own my own intellectual property from now on. I vowed to myself.

We watched a few more films then the guards came to escort Krystal from the cell. "Well. It's been fun," Krystal said.

"Yeah," I agreed and smiled tightly. "Thanks Krystal. You're good company. You can crash at my place anytime. Take care out on those streets." I eyed the guards. "You're taking Krystal back to where you picked her up from, with the money you promised her, right?"

"That's the plan," one responded.

"Good. Because Krystal is my friend. I'm going to check up on her later to make certain she is okay," I said evenly, trying to keep the concern from my voice.

"If you remember," the other one smirked.

Krystal looked from the guards to Me, sensing the tension. "I'm fine. Thanks for the place to crash and the films. I'll see you around."

"I hope so. Thanks." I watched silently as they took Krystal away. "And Krystal? It's Jess. I'll be seeing you. That's a promise."

"I'll hold you to it," Krystal called. And then she was gone.

"Disappeared," I muttered, afraid for my first and only friend.

Issue 5: Acceptance

After the guards came and took Krystal away I crawled back to bed and pulled the covers over myself, mainly cause I felt like crap. Physically and mentally. I wanted to hide from this prison and from my thoughts.

The nausea and aching was odd. With my spider powers I'd not really been prone to much illness. In fact I'd felt pretty invincible. I could shrug of injuries that would have killed normal people or taken them months to recover from. But I was not a hundred percent powers wise - in fact I had normal human strength, speed and reflexes. I had spider sense, webbing, wall crawling, endurance and, well, I'd thought resilience. Evidently my resilience was reduced. I felt so... blegh.

I lay there, thoughts churning. Being a prisoner gave me time for introspection. My life as spider-man was pretty full. School, study and homework. Work at the Bugle, working on their web page and taking the odd photo. Chores at home, making web fluid and repairing my suit. Patrolling as Spider-Man. Time with MJ, Kitty or Gwen. Commuting about... But now I just had this cell, the gym and training, my basket weaving sessions and my thoughts. My thoughts. Argh I'd kill for some web swinging action as a diversion.

My mind drifted back to Krystal. She was the only real person in my life that I felt any affinity for. I hardly knew her but I considered her a... friend? The other people in my life were either jailers or... lets face it... in my head. "Oy," I muttered. No. Krystal and I weren't truly friends but I felt like we could be. We were kindred spirits. And I'd liked hanging with her. She was honest, sincere and real.

But Krystal was in this mess partly thanks to me. I suspected these people might have taken someone off the streets regardless - she'd said other street kids disappeared. But they'd chosen her because of me... because she looked like MJ. What they thought was my type, I was sure. I felt responsible. And I was getting angrier at myself and my captors. It was so frustrating.

I thought about Kitty. She was Peter's girlfriend but... to my mind she was also mine. It was kinda deluded but, well delusion is part of human nature. What would she think of me? Some horrible science experiment? Could she ever see me as a real person? As someone she cared for? As someone she loved? I couldn't see that... I really was stalking her. It was really wrong. I had to let Peter have his life and I had to have my own. I started to cry in frustration. But what choice did I have? I couldn't escape. Peter. This prison. My body. My emotions. My thoughts.

Lying there moping in discomfort I didn't realise I had another visitor until he pushed me. "Hey. Bug girl. You okay?" Blain prompted.

"Go away," I grumbled irritably. I didn't need his crap today. I felt all wound up and angry and depressed. And sick.

"That time of month huh?" He said almost cruelly. I huffed

dismissively in response, blinking away tears, then reconsidered, eyes widening at the possibility. That... would explain a lot. "Yeah. It's on your charts. The bioscan doesn't lie. The reason you feel off is because you have PMT. No joke - even if it is pretty funny. I thought they'd fill you in on your cycle. Heh. You can kinda tell by looking at you - your face is all puffy and bloated..." he said. "It sucks to be you right? Who knew invertebrates had periods."

I stared at this cretin with a distinct sense of nausea.

"Right then, put your jewellery on. You need to exercise," Blain said.

"Go away," I reiterated as I realised despondently he was right. I tried not to think about the implications. Girl parts. Girl cycles. I felt even sicker suddenly. Like I might throw up.

"Listen up bug girl. Lying around moping isn't going to help. Come on. You've got physio to go through," He said, prodding me. "Half of the worlds population deals with this. You can too."

"I will web you..." I warned archly. I really wanted to clean his clocks right then but restrained myself.

"And I'll beat your scrawny bug ass. I thought you were a hero..." he mocked.

"I am Spider-Man," I growled, jaw clenching. "But it's the weekend. Me time. I'm going to sleep," I'd earned it. Go to sleep and see what's happening in Pete's life. I was feeling particularly emotional at the moment. I wanted to take my mind off Krystal and what I was going through. I was not going to do what this idiot wanted. Period. Argh!

"Fine. Suit yourself. Doc Phillips said exercise was a good way to relieve the symptoms," Blain said. He turned to go. "You could go on the pill. That might moderate things too. Plus... you know. Stop you getting pregnant," he leered.

Blain made my skin crawl and I again debated webbing him up. I really needed to break something... or I might cry. Maybe exercise would be good. "Wait..." I called. I hated to admit it but he was probably right about the exercise.

Manacled I walked to the gymnasium where I was unchained and did an extended workout. It was not pleasant but I made myself get up a good sweat. I tried wall crawling and found it difficult without my spider strength but pushed myself, managing to get to the ceiling and web swinging about the room. By the end my arms and shoulders ached and I was exhausted. But I felt better. I then did my tai chi forms and practiced what Gong had showed me, trying to focus on the exercises rather than what my body was going through.

Puberty is a pretty confusing time. I'd liked girls up till now and was comfortable with that... but... would I still be? I didn't know. I thought about guys I knew. Flash Thompson. Ew. Wolverine. Again Ew. Johnny Storm. I shrugged. I liked Johnny but... Well, to be honest I didn't know him very well. Was he cute? I really didn't know. Kong. Meh.

I frowned as I continued through my practice trying to see if I had any interest in guys. The best I could do was 'friends'. But girls...? Kitty. I had a crush on her. Same as MJ. But was that from my old body and Pete's new memories or was that me? It felt like me but... maybe it wasn't. Jeez. I keep coming back to this crap. I didn't know myself.

So... moving forwards. It seemed I had functional female reproductive organs now. Hells bells. I had the ability to bare kids... Did I even want kids? I'd never considered it. No, I didn't want kids at the moment. Jeez I was still just a kid. Was that what all this difference in biology between guys and girls was all about? Procreation?

No. That wasn't it. Not entirely. There was the instinct to reproduce I guess. That was imbedded in most people. As a guy I'd been focused on girls because... well... they were girls. And I was a teenage boy. They were fun. Exciting. I liked being in a relationship and sharing my life with someone. And they're girls. There were... perks. My life was complicated and at times just so hard to deal with. A partner made it bearable. That's why I'd gone to MJ and then to Kitty.

Pete had. Whatever.

But I didn't like girls because I wanted kids. They were girls. It was simple. Still there had always been this vague plan in the back of my mind. Some time in the future there was going to be living together with a girl and having a family. Maybe... but the change to my genetics from the spiders bite had thrown a monkey wrench in those gears. It was something I'd been aware of but never properly thought through. Now I did, well it didn't seem so simple.

Would my kids be mutants? Genetic abominations? Villains? Was I sterile? Would Peter or... would I ever have kids? Could either of us risk it? It was more complicated for me because I was not really a girl. Was I?

Putting aside all the weird genetic issues... did I want kids? The idea creeped me out. Girl parts. A human growing inside me. The miracle of birth. A baby... feeding... The implications were coming home now. Being a parent. A mother? I sighed. That was something to worry about later. The responsible thing to do was not to have kids... I shook off those thoughts.

So. Monthly periods... well I just had PMT at the moment. I had more to discover it seemed.

When I returned to my cell and was unshackled I grunted to Blain in recognition that he was right. I did feel better. I considered whether I liked him. Nope. I wasn't getting Stockholm Syndrome. No Beauty and the Beast stuff here thank god. He was human dirt but I... well I needed to at least be semi polite - for now. "I want comfort food..." I declared. "Ice cream and chocolate," Not too polite. He was my nurse. It was his job. Keep the multi- million dollar investment happy.

"Please sir," he prompted.

"Don't push me Blain..." I retorted darkly as I turned my back on him. I wondered how much money they had invested in creating me. Lots no doubt. That sickened me again. "You have to look after me. That's your job. Trust me. I'd prefer to get it myself."

I went and had a hot shower, water almost scalding. That seemed to help. The food was pushed under the door as I returned to the nest I'd made with Krystal. Fresh cookies, chocolate and ice cream along with my usual lunch. I ate but thinking about Krystal and all the other crap in my life stole all the joy from the self indulgence. Then I slept.

"They came and took her away. They're taking kids off the street," I said angrily as I brushed my teeth then spat. Personal grooming was the most irritating chore. Even brushing my teeth reminded me of the change I'd gone through. My teeth were different. I felt like my mouth was exploding with misgrown teeth. But they looked fine. I tried not to think about showering, using the toilet or dressing. It's hard to ignore your body when you're consciously doing it though.

It was Monday morning, two days after Krystal's visit, and I'd got my first period. Pelvic pain and intermittent cramps that extended into my lower back and upper legs. A headache and nausea. Most of my PMT plus... Other stuff. It wasn't enjoyable. Nuff said.

"What are you talking about?" Dr Phillips asked. She took a sip of her coffee and passed me one. The smell of it was pleasant and I noted that the café name was upon the disposable cup. Brewmasters. A chain. Not useful to me.

"What do you know about the people you work for?" I countered as I grudgingly accepted the coffee and then grimaced at my lack of forethought. I'd just brushed my teeth dammit. I took an angry sip. Toothpaste and coffee. Blegh.

"It's government with..." she said. "The FBI."

"Is it?" I pushed, my delicate physical state heightening my irritable mental state. After the second sip the coffee took some of the edge off at least. I'd never bothered much with the stuff before but decided I liked it. Was that something unique to me? I hoped so.

She didn't respond. "So Jess. You had your first period. How-"

"Oh, I still have it," I interrupted. "And boy am I glad to know my medical records aren't read by freaking everyone..." I accused. Actually it seemed only she and Blain knew but that felt like everyone. With my period hyperbole seemed apropos. Blain had provided sanitary pads last night. That imbecilic, misogynistic, red necked mouth breather. I'd had to read over the instructions as he played Enya. Freaking Orinoco Flow. That had been a thing. Still I appreciated them now.

"So how does that make you feel?" she pushed on.

I rolled my eyes. "You want symptoms? I thought you were a doctor and a woman... do you need the talk?"

She sighed patiently. "Jess? How do you feel? Emotionally."

"Oh chipper..." I responded. This was not someone I wanted to confide in. I took another sip, warming on the inside. Not something I wanted to discuss with her in the least. I'd deal with this in my own way.

"In normal circumstances I'd get the pill prescribed to you," she explained. I made a sour face. "But there is no point. Period pain won't be a problem for you. It's a performance inhibiter. Both physical and emotional. Consequently they've scheduled a hysterectomy for you. Periods won't be an issue after that. Or pregnancy," Phillips informed me as though she was talking about going to a dentist.

"You're what?" I asked, horrified. They couldn't. They had no right. My hand shook with rage and I threw my coffee across the room. "What the hell?!" I yelled.

Doc Phillips eyed me with calm disapproval as the coffee ran down the wall and pooled steaming on the floor. She sipped her coffee. "Your body has stopped forming and so it's time. It's scheduled later in the week," She said cordially.

"Do I get a say in this?" I asked darkly, standing, bristling with rage.

"No," she informed me simply. She closed up her notepad and exited the room. I watched her leave. I stood there in shock. That was today's session done. %*#!!!

I threw myself down on my bed unable to understand. To these people I wasn't a person. I was a project. Their property. Something they'd made that needed to be controlled, managed and exploited. I felt something welling up. Rage.

This was insane. I picked up the chair Doc Phillips had been sitting on and threw it at the one way mirror. It bounced off. I did it again and again. The chair broke but the window was impervious. Must be bullet proof or something. Fine. The cameras then. I threw the bits of chair at them. I couldn't break them. They'd thought of this and built the cell to be strong. I webbed the camera lenses but for some reason my webbing didn't stick. "You can all go to hell!!" I raged. I was crying with impotent fury.

They couldn't do this. They were taking my life. My choices. My future. Everything. I climbed the walls and kicked at the camera, tried to break it. Nothing. I dropped to the floor and ran at the window, smashing bodily into it. It hurt. I did it again and again and again. My face and arm were sore but not bruised. Somehow I'd cut my face on something but otherwise my physical resilience kept me from hurting myself. I didn't have the strength to hurt myself it seemed. My face was tear streaked. I pounded on the window. I yelled and raged.

Orinoco flow came on and then they flooded my cell with gas and I was knocked out.

I awoke some time later and lay on the floor despondently for a while, mind churning. It was stupid. I'd concluded that having kids was irresponsible- too much risk. But now that they were taking that choice from me I felt... violated. It wasn't stupids. It was wrong. That was my choice. Not theirs! Then I sighed and stood, still feeling period pain. Still upset.My session with Gong was soon. Can't miss that. I moved on autopilot. I exercised and had a short nap and started to read some books, trying to focus on anything but my fate. All the while I was trying to find a flaw in this prison they had me in. I had powers but lacked the strength to use them. I didn't know why. So I couldn't break out. This was crap.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Girl flu wasn't fun and I didn't like it's implications. But their solution was... inhumane. I kept coming back to that. I wasn't some pet to be neutered for their convenience.

And it wasn't just my hysterectomy and Krystal's disappearance. When I went to sleep that night I was a passenger on a date with Kitty Pryde. We were just hanging out, no powers or costumes. Talking and getting to know each other. I think I enjoyed that more than Pete. I certainly appreciated it more. The call from MJ telling me to switch on the news kinda broke the mood. Then she hung up. Ah teen drama. Worrying there might be some disaster that needed my help I turned on the box to discover that Flash Thompson had been kidnaped from school and had escaped. Oh crap.

I wasn't a fan of the guy but he didn't deserve that. The real problem was the news said the abductors were after Spider-Man and they'd grabbed him at my school cause Spider-Man went there... Pete's school. Pete didn't need anyone to scrutinise his school life. Clearly someone knew Pete went to Midtown High, and now thanks to the kidnapping everyone suspected Spider-Man went to school there (ASM 87)

The next day I was getting over my period. It was much less intense thank god. I didn't bother even talking to Dr Phillips. You could cut the tension and the silence was deafening and all that stuff. I hated her. That day I just ate and trained. That evenings sleep I'd updated to discover the media had converged on my school. It was a complete circus! The whole kidnapping thing led to Spider-Man confronting Silver Sable and her team of goons. He was tricked and knocked out. I'd gone to sleep after he was knocked out so I got my update and then our sleep periods coincided- but fortunately there were no dreams. Then came the passenger part. I'd awoke to find myself in power cuffs, a prisoner of a company called Roxxon. By Mr Roxxon... (ASM 88-90).

I was unmasked and asked dumb ass questions. Mr Roxxon, Silver Sable and her goons were busy arguing so I broke my bonds and got out of there. They weren't expecting that. Idiots. My spider sense alerted me to a new danger and I dodged for cover as the penthouse exploded in flames. Amongst the concussive blast, acrid smoke and utter confusion of the blast Roxxon was blown out of the building. Why do I always have to save morons? I went after him, grabbed his falling ass and webbed him in the O of his own Roxxon company sign, high on the side of his own skyscraper to keep out of harms way - and stop him from running away.

And then I was suddenly fighting a creepy bald bird-guy dressed in a green flying outfit. He had a penchant for round and shiny grenades which explained the explosion. The first of many. I webbed a ride on his foot and he flew straight down in an attempt to make me eat the pavement. At the last instant he threw one of his metallic ball grenades and turned upwards, the pack on his back whining at the huge G forces. I shot down past him, my web line snapping in half.

"Nice move!" I cried out, catching the thrown grenade with one web line and twisting to get a line at right angles to a nearby buildings flagpole. I arced and turned my downward momentum horizontal, flying through oncoming traffic, doing a full loop and throwing the grenade up after the vulture guy as I came to rest atop the flag pole.

Coincidentally I'd just saved some guy exiting the Roxxon building. Pete thought nothing of it but... well I did. Cause I recognised the person I had just saved from being blown up. "Thanks bug guy. I owe you, one," The guy said in utter terror and relief. Yep. I knew that voice. I focused on him. Blain. My jailer... holy cow...

"Not a problem dude..." I said and swung back into the fray.

-Dammit! Stay! Follow that guy! Argh!- I railed against Peter's control of his body to no avail.

Whilst Pete was fighting I was considering what had just happened. Blain. I'd saved that misanthropic weasel and he owed me. And what was he doing at Roxxon? How were they tied into all this crap? I'd thought this was a government operation but perhaps it wasn't. Were they a contractor? It started to make sense. Super-humans attacking Roxxon because... what? Were they involved in the creation of super-humans... were corporations battling clandestinely for control of a lucrative niche weapons or biomedical market...? But Mr Roxxon was a brainless chump that seemed oblivious to all this. Had I just stumbled across something useful or was this just a coincidence? So many questions.

My gut told me it wasn't a coincidence. This might even lead to Krystal. Things were starting to look up.

The rest of the night was a fly by the seat of your pants passenger adventure but that didn't really register. I just focused on the things relevant to me. Roxxon Industries. Blain.

It was later in the week after a pointless session with Doctor Phillips when I confronted Blain. We were headed from my room to the gym in the access corridor where he had roughed me up the first time. Where he said they had no audio surveillance.

I purposefully stumbled and fell over, flat on my side, unable to catch myself with my arms manacled behind my back. As Blain helped me up I whispered. "So. You owe me..."

Blain frowned. "I don't know-"

"The other night. The grenade. Bug boy saving your life. You owe me," I said.

"I owe him not you," he growled as he pulled me up.

"You'd be dead without Spider-Man's help. That vulture guy was after Roxxon. You work for Roxxon..." I pushed. He grimaced and pushed me on. I'd struck a nerve. "You admitted it."

"You're just a by product of... just shut up," he growled.

I quieted. I'd planted the seed. Whilst he was arguing he clearly felt in Spider-Man's debt. It was enough. We could have this conversation twice every day from now on. I could tell he was a person that didn't like to be in debt.

I did a training session with Gong and then went through my exercises. Then I reminded Blain again about his debt. He grunted and ignored me. I had time to work on getting him to help me... I hoped.

Back in my cell I was unshackled, showered, changed and started to eat my morning meal. My spider sense was tingling oddly, growing stronger. "Oh crap-" They'd drugged my food. I ran to the bathroom to throw up but passed out on the way there.

I awoke from the anaesthetic on my gurney. I felt dry mouthed and off. There was a twinge of pain at my abdomen. I reached down to find a small scar. I sat there feeling empty. I started to cry. Why? What had I ever done to them? What kind of inhuman monsters did this? I didn't know if I wanted children. In the past I had considered what my genetics might mean for my offspring. Would they be a human, a mutant, a monster? I didn't know. I guess I'd never know now. That had been taken from me. I stared at the camera with cold weary eyes. These monsters would pay.

Over the next week I caught up on Pete's adventure with the X-Men and Deadpool. Nothing useful for me there. Being a celebrity couple with Kitty Pryde in the aftermath was strange.

After that I had one encounter of note when I was a passenger. I was finishing up my patrol of the city, about to call it a night and hop on a truck home when I heard alarms going off at a small convenience store. I swung over to investigate. The place was shut and barred but the alarms were going crazy. I peered through the front window, looking inside. There was some girl wearing a security guard jacket over a hospital gown. Half her head was shaved and she had tubes coming out of her arm. She was eating a packet of crisps and trying to open the cash register.

"Hey. The shop's closed," I called. "This looks like robbery to me."

The girl looked up at me. Scared and disoriented.

-Oh crap! Krystal!-

She seemed really confused. "Spider-Man?" She asked. She flickered and then was standing beside me.

"Oh crap!" I said as I grabbed her.

"Let go!" She yelled and we both flickered. And then I was falling. She was a teleporter?! I let go in surprise and she disappeared. I was falling amongst buildings. I webbed and swung, preventing myself from becoming a squished Spider-Man. I returned to the shop but the girl was gone.

-Oh... Krystal. What have they done to you?- I wondered.

I kept the pressure on Blain. He seemed as taciturn and hostile as ever but I had to try. Gently reminding him that he owed me. That he'd have died if not for me. Bringing up the encounter whenever we were in the corridor alone together. He'd ignore me, push me faster along or just shake his head in frustration. But I could tell the idea was firmly planted.

I had crystal to worry about. And myself. And I found out that there were vampires. Interesting though useless tidbit of information. Weird.

"This cell is my own personal hell. Eat, sleep, crap, shower, train and get head shrunk," I grumbled.

"You make me sound like some kind of savage cannibal," Doc Phillips said. "I'm here to help."

I grinned darkly at my face in the mirror, making certain that my simmering thoughts were not evident, turned, pulled the curtain open and walked back into the view of the omnipresent cameras. "At least I have a curtain for the bathroom."

Doc Phillips sighed, sitting in her seat as I prowled restlessly. "I can't do anything about that Jess. You know what I'm here for."

"It's like I'm trapped in a web. Ironic huh? Sleep and be a passenger in Pete's life, wake unsure who I am, shower with my eyes closed and hating the sensation, eat this bland hospital food, have my basket weaving sessions with you, same old physical work out with Gong where he kicks my butt, practice in the gymnasium, then a tasteless lunch, me time where I practice what I learned with Gong like crazy to avoid thinking, sawdust for dinner and then more practice till I'm exhausted and drop into bed. Rinse. Repeat."

"We talked about this Jess. You need to move on. You can't wallow in what you've lost," she said.

"Are you listening? I'm stuck in limbo. In prison. I can't move on. Because of this. I've been emasculated. Neutered... soon I'll be lobotomised," I grumbled. "I've had one visitor and I don't know if she even made it out of here."

"Krystal. I checked. There are no logs of this girl being here," She said.

"Check with Blain," I suggested.

"I did. Nothing. Are you sure you aren't making her up?" Doc Phillips asked.

"Yes," I snapped.

But it was more the danger to the people in my life. Pete's life. First Gwen was killed and now Flash has been kidnaped. That made me feel pretty guilty. I'd work that out by exercising later. Stupid but it was my life still. I'd pretty much synchronised my sleep patterns to Pete's after school activities and had been rewarded with another date with Kitty. That was great. The rest... not so much.

"I understand. I know you want to get out... it's happening soon," Doc Phillips said.

"Soon?" I felt the desperation of being trapped. Soon is bad. Soon I'll be dead! I need to escape but I can't. I kept pacing. "Right. You know what's funny though? I'm not showing any signs of super strength or speed but my webs and spider sense are working fine, even though my shooting strength is poor. Endurance is at Spider Man level, same as my recuperation from Gong's bouts. He really doesn't hold back. No kid gloves with him," I confided as I grabbed my empty food tray and slid it out under the door. "No doubt Blain spat in my meal again. But at least I get solids... so tell me doc. How are they suppressing my powers."

Doc Phillips frowned. "I'm not sure I know "

"Don't. They're using some kind of power suppressor," I said. I have to start pushing now that my time is almost up. I looked Phillips straight in the eye. "And you know it."

Doc Phillips nodded slowly. "We use it to keep you all under control. All five clones and... it."

"It?" I asked.

Doc Phillips did not answer.

"So it's the food?" I pushed.

"No. There is a machine that generates a field," Doc Phillips said quietly. "But you don't have to worry. You'll be moving on soon. As will I," Doc Phillips said.

My face showed fear. "So. The mind wipe," My voice was dead flat. I knew this day was coming.

"I... I've always been honest with you Jessica," Phillips said. "It's..."

"Distasteful?" I shook her head in disgust. "So what happens when all this insanity unravels? What happens to you?"

"I'm sorry?" Doctor Phillips asked.

"I thought you were insightful. But clearly you haven't thought this through to its logical conclusion. You can't lie down with dogs and not get fleas. You're one of them now. Or you're a liability. Either way this won't end well for you," I said.

"I'm quite invaluable -" she started.

"I know people like this all too well. Hell you've treated them so you know them too. People that run programs like this are dangerous and evil. They're criminals. You know that. Are you one of them?" I asked.

"I am working for the government. The good guys," she stated. "You are too."

I rolled my eyes. "You need a psychologist more than I do..."

"You have to trust-"

"What did you do to Krystal?" I interrupted. "She escaped. Spider-Man saw her. She had powers..."

"I have no idea-" she said.

"I thought not. Whatever this program is it's also kidnaping homeless kids. Innocent kids. My guess they're using them as guinea pigs to experiment on," I said. "I have no proof but my instincts are good."

"I'm sure you're wrong. They don't do those sorts of things," Dr Phillips said.

"You're sure? Hopefully when they reprogram me into their mindless killing spider they won't assign me to clean up the loose ends of this program. If so, sorry in advance for what I'll do to you. But you know, you can't make an omelette with breaking a few eggs and all that crap. Better you than me, right? Can you afford for me to be wrong?"

There was a tense moment where the we looked at each other.. "Good luck Jessica. And Goodbye."


End file.
